


Happy Thoughts

by capsicleandmetalman



Series: High School AU [1]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bittersweet Ending, Canon? What's Canon, Cutting, Depression, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Drugs, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt Steve, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, Illusions to Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Insecure Steve, M/M, Mental Hospitals, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Relationship Abuse, SO MUCH FLUFF, Self Harm, Sexual Content, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony is short, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 18:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1398631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capsicleandmetalman/pseuds/capsicleandmetalman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU in which Steve and Tony are both happily dating (and living together) During high school. However, one night, a simple mistake turns into hell for the both of them, making them turn on each other. Steve and Tony are left battling a new form of problems on their own. Not only is their relationship failing, but their mental stability starts to crumble as well. Will they be able to handle this mess? Or will they fail in the process?<br/>(Cliche summaries are cliche but ayyyye)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tony

**Author's Note:**

> Please Read:  
> This fic is actually an original story that was written by both of us that we're actually working to finalize and maybe... possibly publish if we're lucky enough! But please understand that we had to alternate the names from 'Ashton' and 'Owen' throughout the novel and 'Carter' to Stark... so if you happen to stumble across a name that you are not familiar with please let us know so we can correct it instead of complaining about it! It would be very helpful! 
> 
> Also a beta reader might be of use too for those pesky little grammatical and wording errors!
> 
> **Keep in mind the fic changes character POV per chapter

In all my life, I would have never thought I'd fall in love with the forty pound, disease prone, asthmatic boy that sat next to me in the second grade.

I mean, I wouldn't say it was impossible to like a guy like Steven Rogers. Believe me, if you don't like Steve Rogers, then you're pretty damn fucked up in my book. He's the entire package deal for Christ's sake.

With the golden blonde hair that catches the sun's rays just right, combed neatly on top of his head, his bangs skimming the edge of his eyebrows, which hover above pale blue eyes full of sincerity is enough to make anybody instantly attracted to him. How the hell can eyes be full of sincerity or any adjective or noun for that matter you may be asking-- hell if I knew to be quite honest. But Steve has been known to possess some pretty impressive traits as I've been telling you.

He has a hell of a jaw line that meets at a strong chin that can make any girl feel a pang of agony over the fact that he's gay. (Unless you're Natasha Romanov... and if you are, I swear to God I'll get you those ten bucks by next week) Oh and his body-- Jesus Christ did puberty ever do Steve a favor.

Steve Rogers went from this pale, sickly little boy carrying his inhaler everywhere in too-big jeans as he huffed and puffed through the simplest of tasks. But one glorious, mystical day, baby Jesus opened up the clouds with a beam of light that shone upon Steve's little head that was just barely five feet off the ground.

The angels began to sing a tune and the Gods of puberty came down, sprinkling magical dust upon skinny Steve and behold... a young man with beautiful evenly toned muscles with the athletic ability of an Olympian who had a heart of gold was born. (As a witness of Steve's beautiful transformation, I can confirm that this is precisely how it happened)

Mind you, Steve has always had a heart of gold. He saves kittens from trees as a hobby and helps old ladies cross the street-- even after they've sprayed him with pepper spray. Steve was just too kind-- always has been and that is just one of many reasons why I'm madly in love with him.

How did I get so lucky? To be quite honest, I’m not really sure. But you know what they say-- never question greatness.

Not only is Steve an all-around amazing person, but he's also a fantastic pillow. I mean, with all that toned muscle packed on to his tall body, one may think he'd be as hard as a rock, but no. He's like a pillow; a warm pillow that kisses me and smells like after shave and spearmint with a hint of musky cologne.

"Tony, stop squirming." Steve laughs out as I shift my body slightly.

We're laying down on my overstuffed couch-- well technically Steve is. I'm lying on top of him, my smaller body dwarfed by his muscular enhanced one. My face rests on his unfortunately sweatshirt-covered chest, giving me the ability to listen to the muffled rhythm of his heartbeat. His hands rest on my lower back, while mine rest on his broad shoulders. His long, built legs extend to the edge of the couch, whereas my sock clad feet hardly reach his shins.

That's the negative of having a God-like human for a boyfriend. No matter what, you're always going to appear shrimp-like next to their larger frame. Steve would tell you that I'm simply tiny. But I swear over the puberty Gods that blessed me with a beautiful boyfriend, I'm perfectly average sized.

I had been tall and gangly once, especially in comparison to skinny, wheezing Steve. I suppose I just peaked early. But on the bright side, I can steal Steve's sweatshirts and be swallowed cozily within the Steve-scented cotton.

"I'm getting comfortable!" I insist as I shift my hips once more. Although Steve is most definitely the perfect pillow that would put all memory foam companies out of business, it still takes some time for me to adjust myself to fit perfectly against his body.

"Well stop." he tells me laughingly.

I simply stick out my tongue at him before positioning my hip bones in a suitable manner against his well defined torso. He laughs and gently pecks me on the lips, weaving his strong fingers through my already tousled brown hair. I close my eyes with his comforting touch. With Steve, I feel a sense of security. I'm content and safe. It's like he protects me from anything in this fucked up world that could ever bring me harm.

"Dinner's almost ready you two." my father (Otherwise known as Howard, which I generally address him by, depending on my mood-- he finds it disrespectful for me to do so... but that only makes me want to do it more) says as he enters the living room looking slightly ragged with his wrinkled shirt, crooked tie and the dust of a five o'clock shadow sprinkled across his jaw. Another tough day at the family company I must presume.

My father is basically my mirror image, or at least that's what everyone says when I go into work with him. We share the same thick, unruly dark brown hair. However, he at least makes an effort at taming his locks. I'd rather leave mine sloppy on top of my head for Steve to stroke. Our faces are the same completely down to the nostril size. The only difference is our eyes. His are a pale green color whereas mine are a deep brown color.

The other more significant difference between us would be the height. We're both rather lean with a decent amount of muscle packed onto our frame-- obviously not as much as Steve, but enough to say we are "physically fit". On the other hand, my father is much taller than me. I stand almost a whole head shorter than him-- which is not short, it is average height.

This is a trait I've inherited from my mother. She was a petite woman with short brown hair that framed her heart shaped face. But she has been gone since I was twelve. And no, she didn't get up and divorce my father, knowing she'd get a more than a necessary amount of cash. (She would have been smart and taken me with her in order to gain child support) Mom was far too sweet for that.

She died of a heart condition known as supraventricular tachycardia, (SVT) which, along with the height issue, I also inherited. And for those who are not educated in the field of can-be-fatal heart conditions that really fucking suck, (Especially during rough sex with your beautiful boyfriend) SVT, in simplest terms, is basically when your heart beats too fast and it causes a whole lot of chest pain. It has also landed me in the hospital far too many times for me to count ever since I had my first attack at fourteen.

"Come on. Hurry up before your food gets cold." Howard ushers irritably.

"Nnngh." I groan, seeing as I had finally found myself perfectly comfortable against Steve's body. I certainly was not in the mood to leave his warm, well-toned, mattress-like body. Nope. Can't do it. Not today. Screw that. I would apologize to Steve if he was hungry, but I've finally made myself a warm spot. Therefore, I am far too cozy to leave his sculpted body.

"Tony," my dad says in the tone of voice known as the 'I'm not in the mood for your obnoxious bullshit right now, Anthony.' But now that I think about it, he always uses that tone with me.

Dad never moved on from mom's death. It changed him. Dad was always full of life and he seemed to always have time for her and I back then. Mom lit his life up with her bubbly smile, bright eyes and contagious laughter. She had that... that thing about her I guess. She had soft hands that would wipe my tears away and a soothing voice that calmed me after a nightmare. When Maria Rose Stark died, she took a piece of Howard with her. He became cold and calculating, throwing himself into his work, consumed by grief. It was then when he began to resent me, I think.

"Later." I whine, which ignited a snort from the hunk of muscle beneath me who is currently rubbing my back. Howard is obviously oblivious to the immense comfort Steve is bringing me. How could I ever remove myself from him now? I can almost feel myself start to drool into Steve's chest as mind numbing relaxation begins to settle while my comfort level increases and Steve's manly scent fills my nostrils.

Most parents-- or in my case, guy who is biologically stuck with me, would lose their shit and call the cops if they saw their child in the same position as Steve and I were currently in. Hell, most parents might start screaming the genesis of the Bible if they saw their children sitting less than six inches apart from their significant other.

But Steve happens to live with Howard and I. (No, he's not the sexy servant who wears a too-short maid uniform for me... but to be honest, I wouldn't complain if he did) Steve moved in with us after his father had died in a horrific plane crash just two years ago. His mother had died when he was just nine years old due to cancer. Steve had been such a mess when that happened. I can still remember hugging my best friend as sobs violently shook his skinny frame at her funeral. Steve was so messed up that his father had to carry him out of the service.

Steve and I had been dating for about six months at the time of his father's untimely death. He'd been a wreck and was absolutely terrified about being sent into some foster home. He kept babbling mindlessly between tears about how he'd never see me again and how he was going to be all alone. Yeah... big muscly Steve had completely broke in front of me and that was when I stepped in as his guardian angel. I refused to let the love of my life be sent away into a foster home. He didn't deserve to be with strangers after losing his remaining family.

I had discussed everything with my dad and it was easy to get him to agree with my preposition of adopting Steve into our home. (In a non-incest manner, of course. That would be really awkward for our relationship) Howard loved Steve like his own son—hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he decided to exchange me for Steve.

It had been fairly simple to ensure that Steve would be in our custody instead of some strangers'. I mean, with dad’s nationally known title as the 'Greatest Businessman of Our Time!' and our excessive amounts of cash, the courts easily complied with our demands.

Now, Steve lives with us and we freely cuddle anywhere in the house... or mansion, I should say. Although we each still have our own bedrooms, we generally seem to forget seeing as we dominate each other's beds by sleeping with one another. We also refrain from having sex anywhere Howard would walk in on us. You only make that mistake once. 

Howard rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed by my bullshit. But as per usual, I feel a slight warmth in my chest, knowing I've gotten a ride out of him. I am most certainly a little shit, and I take utmost pride in that, thank you very much.

I simply nuzzle deeper into the Steve-scented fabric, my nose centered in his pecks now. Jesus, what I'd do to get this blasted hoodie off of him right now. I can already envision it; Steve blushing furiously as I toss away his shirt, begging him to take me right then and there. His blue eyes would widen and a string stuttering drivel would spill from his lips that I would force against my own. He would be shocked at first from the sudden closeness until he finally fell into the kiss with me. His hands would pull at my hair as I would undo my own jeans, leaving me in my shirt and boxer briefs.

Getting impatient, Steve would slip my shirt off of me, followed by his jeans leaving us both clad in nothing but our underwear. Sweet, innocent, perfect Steve would start to show off his rough side as he'd nip playfully at my bottom lip, sliding his hands down my back and onto the curve of my very fine ass. I'd start to sweat with pleasure, my breaths somewhat short. God I'd want him so bad. Such a little tease, he is.

I'd start to beg and Steve would simply laugh at me, continuing his exploration of my body. I'd moan as his hands would slip beneath the band of my underwear. I'd start to bite at his neck, leaving hickeys behind as I made my way back to his strong jaw. Finally, Steve would slip me out of my boxers, tossing them elsewhere. I'd reciprocate the action with his own.

Then, Steve would push me on my back, a smirk ghosting upon his perfect face. He'd straddle over me, ready to give me what I've been wanting all fucking day. He kisses my stomach, sending warmth through my veins. Sweat would begin to bead upon my forehead, and I close my eyes as Steve begins to pull my thighs apart....

Unfortunately with Howard around I am forced to refrain from that beautiful fantasy. Goddammit Howard.

"Tony," Steve's voice whispers huskily into my ear, pulling me away from my vivid thoughts. "Let’s go."

"Mmm." I respond. I’m way too cozy and too ecstatic about pissing Howard off, who has his arms crossed, glaring down at me in a way he believes to be formidable, but only amuses me further. Silly father, your annoyance fuels my happiness. But clearly this is all Steve's fault for being so damned cozy.

Suddenly my world is tilted as Steve stands, holding me up. I release a very manly yelp as I find myself in Steve's arms rather than lying cozily on his body.

"Thanks Steve." Howard mutters as he heads towards the dining room.

"Jesus!" I exclaim, not expecting that element of surprise. "Warn a guy!" Steve just chuckles and sets me on my feet.

"You deserved it." Steve chirps, his face smug with victory.

"You're sleeping alone tonight." I mutter as we begin to walk in my father's direction.

"Finally, I'll be rid of the notorious bed hog."

"I take that back."

Steve lets out a laugh as we pull out our mahogany chairs that sit across from each other.

Calling the dining room 'grand' would be an understatement. The room is unexplainably large with ten foot ceilings and arched doorways. The wallpapered walls are adorned with overpriced paintings that are held in polished frames. A large China cabinet is pushed against the wall; full of glasses and other ornamental things that mom would spend her Sunday afternoons polishing whilst humming a tune. Some of our maids and servants had offered to do the somewhat tedious task, but mom had always denied their proposals.

An oriental rug that was imported from France sits under the large mahogany table that can seat up to twenty people which is covered by a lace tablecloth. Above the table hangs a giant chandelier with thousands of little crystals that sparkle beautifully against the gold light. The dining room is just one of the many well put together rooms in the Stark manor. (Far too many rooms if you ask me, but we also have more than enough Benjamin’s than we know what to do with)

One may dream endlessly of having a house as large, grand, and professionally decorated as my own, but people fail to notice how lucky they are for their smaller, self-put homes, in my personal opinion. I still vaguely remember entering Steve's home when we first became friends as little kids and being enveloped in the sense that his place was an actual home. There had been shoes littered on the floor, pictures on the walls-- some of them showing them not in their most photogenic state, and other little things that proved a family lived in that place.

When you walk into the Stark manor, you never see a single thing on the floor. (Well, unless you enter my room and the floor is the one thing you'll never see) Just pristine, polished perfection surrounds the house. Few pictures are within our home-- but they show us with our "professional" smiles and not our real ones that actually show joy within our eyes. My house is like those houses you see in the magazines; too perfect to replicate or to even be real. Those magazines always show houses. They never show homes.

Like most rooms in the house, the dining room generally feels terribly empty and far too big since it usually holds the same three people. (Except every other Saturday when Howard has dozens of business partners over) We all sit together at table, ready to dig into some lasagna.

While we begin into the delectable, cheesy goodness, I wrap my feet around Steve's ankles. I'm not sure why I do this, to be quite honest. I think it's just been a thing since we started dating. I always snake my feet around his muscular legs like a python, claiming him as my prey just before I devour him. Okay maybe that's a frightening overstatement that makes me appear slightly creepy-- But regardless, I suppose I just simply find it comforting and do it, and if Steve finds no fault in that, then no one else should either.

"Anything new at school?" Howard asks, breaking the silence that had settled in the dining room. Ah yes, school-- the epitome of parent to little shit I'm biologically stuck to and adopted son that I wish was mine, small talk.

"Didn't blow up anything at school." I say through a mouthful of the mess of lasagna, so it sounds more like, "Hihn buh aneetha ah at scoo."

Howard shot a nasty glare in my direction due to my lack of table manners. As per usual, I feel a burst of pride in my chest. I simply find so much pleasure in annoying others. God I'm such an ass-- I love it.

Giving up on me, he turns to Steve-- hope evident in his eyes, "Steve?"

"I got a B plus on a chem test." he answers with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

Howard nods in approval, "Tony?"

"Aced everything." I answer.

I am certifiably a first class genius. That probably sounds really cocky and people like Steve would roll their eyes and tell me how humble I am in a sarcastic tone of voice. But hey, I know my skills and you bet your ass I'm going to flaunt it. School has always come easy to me, ever since I was a little kid. I just sit in the chair and absorb the information with ease. I've been interested in mechanics for a long time too. Hell I even built a well working circuit board and an engine, all before my 8th birthday

To be honest, I could easily skip a grade if I wanted. Hell, I've had colleges offering me scholarships since I was in the eighth grade. But that would mean leaving Steve, which I don't think I could handle. So here I am living in New York City, dominating Shield High's AP program with my best friend (other than Steve, of course) Bruce Banner.

Howard simply nods in meager approval. Well, I wouldn't necessarily call it approval. It's more of an expectation, I suppose. I mean, it's not really difficult for me to reach his standards. To some, they may seem unreasonably high, but with my wit, I find it simple sometimes. I mean, let’s all be real here-- GENIUS STATUS. But I guess sometimes it would be nicer to receive more than a simple nod and maybe a less Howard-ly reaction and a more fatherly one.

But whatever, it's not like I have daddy issues or anything. I simply suffer from ‘guy I'm biologically linked to that is on a first name basis with me’ issues.

And like the same Gods that blessed Steve with his perfectly sculpted, sexy body, made the small talk finally come to an end. I'm beyond thankful for this. This is nearly worthy for me to say my thanks for during the Thanksgiving feast when we ask each other what we're thankful for. I'll have to remember this one.

The room returns to the easy silence filled with the clank of crystal glasses and the scrapes of forks dragging across fine china as we dig our way through the cheesy layers of the lasagna.

The silent dinner finally comes to an end and Steve and I are free to leave the room. We lift ourselves from our chairs after I release Steve's ankles from the grip of my feet. Howard calls for one of our many servants to help clean up the dining room as most rich assholes would do. They’re far too "busy" to clean up after themselves so they leave it upon some other poor soul to clean up for them.

Howard mutters something about work and stocks that he must attend to, as if I really cared. Maybe I should, considering the business will be in my hands one day… Yeah nope. Still not giving an ounce of a fuck. The only thing I really care about as of now is getting into my bed with Steve and curling up against his warm body.

We make our ways slowly upstairs, feeling full and lethargic from our dinner. We walk the length of the large hallway until we reach the last door, which happens to my bedroom. Sometimes we sleep in Steve's room, other times we’ll sleep in my room. There's generally no discussion of which room we shall take, we just pick a room in our mind during the day and it's like we know which room to head to. Only once have we walked in opposite directions and that was when I was held up with the stomach flu and I'm quite certain that I didn't want to puke on Steve and Steve didn't want me puking on him.

The Stark manor, as I said, is a grand place with the exception of my room. But in my defense, I think I'm doing the mansion a favor, thank you very much. Howard would call my room pigsty and would tell the maids they shouldn't have to clean up after his "slob of a son" (Although, he's contented with them cleaning up his clutter of an office) and that I should be mature enough to do it myself. But like always I ignore what he asks of me because my room is special.

Every speck of dust, empty mug that once contained highly caffeinated coffee, dirty laundry, and blueprints with my sloppy scrawl, gives my bedroom a sense of character. The posters that are slightly torn on my wall, my guitar with a broken set of strings and the graded essays crumpled up give insight to the creature that inhabits my room. My unmade bed may make questions come to one's head. Am I reckless sleeper? Was I in a rush that morning and had no time to make it? Or had I had amazingly rough sex the night before? Or was it all three? You may never know-- unless you stood outside my door last night.

In all, this slop-- no, these beautifully placed objects are not pigsty in my eyes. They are simply a brief reflection of who I, Tony Stark, truly am. And this whole spiel is really just a well put-together jumble of words that basically states that I, Tony Stark, am a lazy motherfucker who is far too fucking busy and lazy to clean his damned room.

But honestly, Steve could really give two shits about the state of my room. Even if it's opposed to his well-organized lifestyle and a polar opposite of his perfectly put together, lemon scented bedroom. And since Steve doesn't seem to mind the state of my room, I don't either.

I kick the door shut behind me, slipping out of my—well, Steve's sweatshirt.

"Are you ever not going to steal my clothes?" Steve asks as he watches his hoodie get added to the pile of clothes-- a good bulk of which are his clothes that I have borrowed without his permission.

"Don't act like it bothers you." I say as I slip out of my jeans, leaving me in a pair of boxers, which are mine. I swear on that.

Steve makes his way over to me, his hands resting on the small of my back. A chill runs up my spine and my blood runs icy in my veins.

"It doesn't. But you never see me stealing your clothes from your well stocked closet."

"First of all, my closet isn't well stocked. My floor is. Secondly, you can't fit into my clothes. If you tried, you'd be starting and failing the trend of too-tight male crop-tops. I don't think it'd be very attractive on you Mr. Rogers, although you do certainly have a wonderful figure."

"You're such an ass."

"And you like that ass."

"I definitely do." He says with a gruff laugh as his hands slide down over the curve of said ass. Which, let me tell you, is definitely more than fine. I won't go into major detail about my spectacularly shaped ass, but I can tell you that Becky and her little friend would definitely be in awe over my ass. (A/N: If you do not get that reference you may be too young for this.)

I smile at him, and then tuck my head under his chin, which fits perfectly against his neck. It's like we're a puzzle piece and my cursed average height is a blessing since I'm dating Steve. I fit perfectly against him regardless of the position we're laying or standing in. It's like our bodies were perfected in the shape so we could be easily pieced together like a complex jigsaw puzzle.

I unwillingly yawn as Steve's scent filters my nose. Dammit. I was looking forward to some hot sex tonight.

"Sleepy?"

"Mmm. I want your dick."

"Tony!" He says with choked laughter. I smirk, already feeling heat prickle his skin. God, he's so cute when he's flustered.

"Don't act surprised."

"You're such a horny little shit."

"You love me."

"Eh."

I smack his arm, sticking out my lower lip in a playful pout.

"Of course I do."

"I'm not so sure that you do."

"I apologize, Tony."

"I think I'm going to need a double round of sex."

"How about tomorrow night? And maybe we'll do a round three."

"Hmmm," I place my hand on my chin as though deep in thought. "I suppose I can accept your offering."

"Good boy." He says, pressing his smooth lips against my forehead.

"Hey!" I say with a whine, "I'm not your sub."

"Of course, Tony. Of course." He responds in a halfhearted way, too cozy in my soft bed to give two shits about my whining.

He wraps his thickly muscled arm around my middle, nuzzling my back to his body-- as usual, he's the big spoon. I mean, although I'm certainly the average physique of a seventeen year old male-- Steve's infallibly toned body overpowers my average-ish body. It'd be absolutely ridiculous for me to even try being the big spoon. But whatever, I'm perfectly content with being the little spoon because I get to be nuzzled in Steve's perfection.

Our legs intertwine each other and my hips rock back so my rear lies at his hips. Steve pulls the tangled covers from the foot of my bed and drapes them over us-- knowingly that with my reckless sleeping habits, I'll kick them off eventually. But hey, it's the thought that counts.

"Night." I mutter, sleep seeping into my voice as my eyes grow heavy.

"Night." He whispers back, his voice hot on the nape of my neck. If I wasn't so drained from school and shit, I'd be on my natural schedule of staying up until five in the morning pouncing on his ass. But of course, poor Tony Stark cannot get as he so desperately pleases.

Steve starts steady circular motions against my back which only serves to fuel the tiredness pressing against my mind. A yawn escapes my throat, and before I know, it my eyes have fallen shut under Steve's spell to be so goddamned perfect and cozy, and before I know it I'm completely conked out for the night with absolutely no sex. (But there's no need to threat over that-- Steve always keeps his promises for eventual mind blowing sex)

xXx

The alarm blares unforgivingly next to my head, screeching at me to get off my ass and go through another shitty day at Shield High. Why the hell would I want to pull myself from this cozy bed and get dressed in clothes I've stolen from my boyfriend and face a bunch of fucking chicken shit morons who probably can't tie their shoes in a proper manner, when I could stay home with my own smarts that overwhelm the science community and get fucked to the ends of the Earth with Steve?

Now, I don't know about you, but that vision sounds much better than the first. Plus, if I mention it to Steve, I get to see him stutter and blush like the cute little bastard he is.

"Steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeevvvvvvvvvveeeee." I whine as the alarm continues to beep its agonizing tone that so many people face each morning with a sense of dread.

I feel the bed shift as Steve reaches over me, his arm stretching the length to the alarm and flicking it off.

"Get up Tony." He whispers in my ear. I only close my eyes tighter. "Tony, get up."

"How about we have sex instead? That could be my phys. ed. for the day."

"T-Tony!" He shrieks like the little prude he is deep down.

I smirk with my eyes shut, almost daring to open them just to his reddened face. "You know you promised me three rounds last night."

"Oh did I?" His hands creep down my waist and rest on my hip bones sending heat to my lower belly and chills across my shoulders. "Must've been half asleep. I don't think you had my true consent to dig that sort of information from me, Tones."

"That's not even funny." I say, my eyes flipping open at his words. "If anything, I was more out of it than you. You're giving me sex."

He starts laughing, his chin resting upon my chest. "Get up and take a shower," he glances down at my lower half. "a cold shower."

"You owe me." I say, sliding out from under him.

"You'll get it soon Tony. Be patient, young grasshopper."

"Fuck you." I say as I grab a hoodie-- Steve's hoodie to be specific, and head to my bathroom.

xXx

After cleansing my body with mildly scalding water and shaving what little stubble I'd managed to grow in the last two weeks, I dressed myself in Steve's clothes that hung on my body just perfectly and headed downstairs where Steve stood by the door, fully dressed in wrinkle-free clothes and his blonde hair combed perfectly over his dashing eyes-- completely opposed to my still wet hair that stuck up in spikes and my attire of a football sweatshirt that was intended to fit snugly across the span of a 6'2 muscular blonde and not a 5'8 science geek that was lean in physique due to the fact that he generally lived off highly caffeinated coffee (Which mind you, I'm supposed to avoid with the heart condition) and blueberries.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Aye aye, captain." I muttered, grabbing my book bag.

"You going to eat breakfast?" he asked.

"I've got things to blow up at Shield High, Rogers." I said with a smirk.

"Of course you do." he said shaking his head as he chuckled.

We didn't bother telling Howard goodbye because he was probably getting ready for some board meeting, or working with the flight arrangements for his business trip in Japan for some presentation that could "change the course of the whole company."

I really didn't care about the company that I was in line to take over when Howard kicked the bucket. All I knew is that for now, the stocks were in excellent state and that with my dad leaving this Friday definitely meant another huge ass party for the upperclassmen at Shield High-- and underclassmen that managed to sneak in with some of their older friends at the Stark mansion.

The two of us got in the car-- me in the driver side and him in the passenger side with our bags tossed in the back. I grabbed my sunglasses that I kept handy in the glove box and slipped them over my face, and flicked on the radio. I slipped one hand on the wheel and the other into Steve's left hand.

The two of us rode in silence, which was fine by me. It wasn't awkward or anything like the dinners we shared with my father. It's a good kind of silent that settles around the two of us-- like we're so comfortable around each other that even when words aren't said and actions aren't made, it's evident that we love each other in some twisted, strange, ridiculous way.

I pulled into the senior lot, lucky enough to snag a spot. The senior lot is like a herd of gazelles... about a hundred scrawny ones for a population of 250 starving cheetahs. If you fail to catch one of those scrawny little gazelles, you're stuck sitting far away with your stomach growling its annoyance at your lack of food-- and by that I mean you're stuck parking in one of the back lots, having to sprint to class and having your teacher yell at you for walking in just as the bell rings, looking like a sweaty mess.

I lean back, snatching our two bags, and handing Steve his own. We step out of the car, lacing our fingers with each other, nobody making any notice of the two boys that hold hands as they walk into the building.

I'll give Shield High credit for that. The population that makes up our class may be full of incompetent idiots, but they're all fairly accepting. Nobody seems to be bothered by the fact that some boys like each other's asses and some girls like to grope other girls' boobies or that some people like both boy's asses and groping girls' boobies. Well, everyone except a small handful of asshole students that have no fucking life, and the football coach who is completely oblivious to the fact that his star player-- Steve, is and has been fucking the future valedictorian for the last few years.

I open our locker that we share—which, unlike my bedroom, is in an immaculate state due to the fact that Steve can't handle having a messy locker for school. We grab our books for first period-- AP Physics for me and Honors History for him.

"Hey Tony. Hey Steve." Clint Barton calls out as he swaggers over with his stupid grin, Natasha Romanov, otherwise known as Nat, following him sleekly-- like a cat ready to pounce on her prey. Clint and Natasha, similar to Steve and I's relationship, is completely polar opposite.

Natasha is full of grace, and smooth movements that accent her athletic build. She has pale-- nearly translucent skin, with firey red hair that is cut in short curls around her heart shaped face and piercing green eyes that could easily make your heart stop in fear if you gaze into them too long. To be quite honest, if it weren't for the fact that she was my friend, (And I say that loosely because I don't doubt she wouldn't hesitate to kick my ass.) I'd be absolutely terrified of her and I would squeak and scatter the moment I saw her-- like all the freshmen do.

Clint, on the other hand, is a little less graceful in his movements. He walks with a slight slouch, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He has dirty blonde hair that sticks up in spikes and piercing blue eyes. He wears a crooked smirk most of the time and is constantly cracking stupid jokes that nobody really gets or is constantly eating something that is most definitely not in the food pyramid. Without a single doubt in my mind, Clint would be hilariously overweight if it weren't for the fact that he worked out on a daily basis with Natasha. 

"Hey," Steve and I say in unison, turning to face our two friends.

"I guess we're running the mile today in gym." Clint says with a groan.

"I shouldn't have to participate in that!" I say, my hand fluttering to my chest. "I suffer from a rather severe heart condition."

"You slowly jog the whole thing." Steve teases.

"I lapped you twice last time." Natasha adds.

"I could drop dead if I ran that thing! Then you would all have to drag my carcass from the track and lay it in the nurse's office where you would all have to mourn my beautiful body-- all because I was forced to run the mile."

"You're such a drama queen." Steve says, wrapping his arms around my waist.

"You're so ignorant of my condition." I whine, sticking out my lower lip.

"Asshole."

"Jerk."

Then Steve kisses me firmly on the lips.

"You two are ridiculous." Natasha spits in disgust.

"Us?!" I exclaim, pointing at her and Clint. "You two threaten to kill each other on a regular basis and kick each other's asses every day at the gym. That's ridiculous."

"Wrong. I kick his ass."

"Hey!" Clint says, crossing his arms.

"You know it's true."

"Is not! I pinned you last week!"

"Yeah and that was when I had a sprained wrist, and I still managed to flip you that day."

"Screw you, Nat." Clint says, resulting in Natasha simply smirking at him, and kissing him on the cheek.

The bell then rings its three tone ring, signaling that we need to move our little asses on to class in under four minutes even if our class is on the second floor at the farthest highway or in the depths of our basement. God, high school is such an amazing place.

"See you guys in gym." Clint says, as he and Natasha head off to their first periods.

"Love you, Tony." Steve whispers to me, planting his lips against mine as a way to get me through a long period with idiot students who think they're smart enough to be in the AP classes when they all pale in comparison next to Bruce and I.

"See you in hell." I tell him, referring to gym class.

He simply laughs and makes his way to history class.

I'm about to make my way to the west wing when I realize I forgot to grab a pencil that didn't have a worn down eraser. "Dammit." I mutter to myself, as I quickly turn the dial of my locker on the numbers and open it. I scan the shelves of our endless supply of pencils for one that was well sharpened and didn't have a nub for an eraser.

"So, Stark party this weekend, huh?" Whispers a voice as I finally find a decent pencil; a voice that was easily recognized by my ear. A voice that belonged to a tall and slender male with pale skin and a gradient of freckles under his brown-- almost black eyes, dark brown hair that sat smoothly on his head. A male that I had once deemed fuckable in my past, only to discover he was an abusive little shit and a certifiable ass-hat.

The biggest life ruiner that has ever ceased to walk on this planet: Tiberius 'Ty' Stone.


	2. Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I apologize for anyone who actually reads this story. Natasha, who shall be writing Steve's chapters was in school until today so she literally wrote 75% of it today and as most of her writing is, it's quite impressive!
> 
> Also keep in mind that there may be errors in the names because this is basically an OC story that we altered to fit Tony and Steve. So once more if you find a name that you are unfamiliar with please tell us where so we can edit it.

_The room is eerie and the only visible light in it is the distant flames erupting from an unknown source. The glow of the cackling fire suddenly illuminates the room to life, making my reflection bounce across the room. My lungs are slowly infiltrated by the grey haze coating the atmosphere. I gasp for a breath and I'm trying desperately to get low on the ground, searching for any hint of fresh air, but there's absolutely none; the room is completely enclosed._

_Panic settles over me as the mysterious flames surround me. I scream at the top of my lungs for help and I pound on the glass of the mirrors as hard as I possibly can, but my fist cannot break through. It doesn't even make a single crack. The fiery orange mass reaches closer and closer until I can almost feel the flames scorching off my skin. The air starts feeling heavier and heavier as if gigantic piles of blankets were coating over me._

_All of the sudden, something grabs my leg and yanks me down with a tight grasp. The heat and flames are engulfing me. I can see my reflection hazily in the mirror before me, but it's not the same this time. It was still me… but I'm standing up and I look different. I look grim and I was pointing, laughing—but at what? I avert my eyes over to where my finger was indicating at and—_

*** 

I shoot up out of my desk and slam my head against the brick wall beside me. (Ah, the struggles of being twice the size of your own seat) “Daydreaming again, are we Rogers?” James Barnes, otherwise known as Bucky, says smugly at me, curling his lips into a twisted smirk 

Bucky and I have been best friends since birth, practically— actually, scratch that. Bucky had been more like a bodyguard to me before my years of rather impressive puberty. He's always been there for me, protecting me from bullies that I'd encountered as a skinny, pathetic little guy that always insisted on being strong enough to fight. Although, I will say that it usually ended up with me on the ground, only to get back up with sheer determination... only to repeat the process until Bucky would step in and whoop the guy's ass and help me up— not without snidely commenting on my apparent admiration for having my ass handed to me. 

He'd always been bigger than me, that is until— and I quote Tony on this statement, "God-given puberty skills" stepped in and gave me almost a foot in height and doubled my weight in muscle mass. He's still fairly tall with light brown hair that is cut short, but sticks up in the front in a slight cowlick. He's quite muscular in comparison to most people at Shield High. He'd certainly prove to be a challenge in a fight, but I certainly wouldn't do that to him. Next to Tony, he's one of my best friends.

He's a really fun guy, yet he can be serious within seconds. He could start off cracking jokes and making sarcastic comments at one moment, and then in the blink of an eye, his face could be twisted into a nasty snarl, his pale grey eyes mirroring those of a man guilt of murder, ready to attack anybody who (Please pardon my harsh language) fucks with him or anyone he's close to.

"Oh hush.” I reply, rubbing my temple. Apparently, I missed an entire lecture on the impact of the Treaty of Versailles on Germany, subsequent to World War I. Thankfully—hopefully, my teacher didn’t really notice me.

I'm not much of a daydreamer, to be quite honest. There were just times—like now, for instance, where I’d have random bouts of visions… sort of. They’ve never really legitimately happened to me, but I suppose it’s normal. I think it has something to do with my parents and how they died, but it’s okay. I’m used to it. 

Anyways, it’s not like not paying attention in history affects me. (Dear God, Tony is really starting to rub off on me) And as terrible as this sounds coming from me, I’m honestly just prepared to leave class and go to gym class instead or maybe even “use the restroom” when, in actuality, I’d just be walking past Tony's AP Physics class, giving him the signal for us to… uh, inquire about certain affairs in the janitor’s closet. 

I get a little flustered thinking about it, but sometimes I just can’t help myself. Tony always calls me such a prude for getting all worked up about our—er, intercourse… Well, let’s just say he isn’t totally wrong. 

I make an attempt at muffling my giggles whilst hiding my face in sheer terror of anybody noticing how ridiculously red I look and raise my trembling hand for permission to use this so-called "bathroom". 

"Excuse me?" I ask as polite as humanly possible. 

"Yes, Steve?" My teacher replies, beaming at me. I find it interesting how some teachers can go from reprimanding their pupils at one minute to talking to a little 5-year-old the next. I suppose that's the reward for leaving her apples every Monday morning to brighten up a day so delirious and restless. That's another thing Tony makes fun of me for... And he wonders why all his teachers hate him! 

"May I please use the restroom?" 

"Of course, just sign out and take a pass" She replies, returning to her lesson. 

Bucky lets out a laugh. "Going to the bathroom again, are we Rogers?" 

"Hush up," I retort. 

"Make sure you don't dislocate his hip this time." 

"It was one—" 

"Didn't he have to go to the emergency room last—" 

"Okay, twice! Let it go!" I snapped. 

I huffed out a breath and maneuvered my way through the maze of desks out of the classroom and down the halls to Tony's class. 

As I make my way over, I notice Ty Stone walking past me with a rather hurried stride. As per usual, he always looks like he's pissed off or has a cactus shoved up his ass (Pardon my foul mouth...Tony needs to stop rubbing off on me) or something. I think that's exactly how I would describe his personality, as well. 

Ty sort of gives me this menacing glare as we exchange glances— which, I happen return with a smile. If there’s anything I have ever learned from my mother is not to fight fire with fire… Well, on most occasions anyways. I don't understand why Tiberius still holds a grudge over me, but I suppose there's just some people in this world who have never learned to leave the past in the past. 

I stop in front of Tony's physics class and sneak a peak of him inside sitting next to Bruce Banner at the very front. I think one of my favorite things to do is watch Tony at work. (Not in that way, although I wouldn't say it bothers me entirely) He always seems full of life when he's doing something he has a longing passion for. His eyes just light up and they almost sparkle as he discovers new properties of an element or some new theorem of sorts. 

Unfortunately, I feel the need to interrupt his expanding mind for my own privilege. It's okay, though, Tony is always an asshole to me so now it's my turn. (Dear Lord, I apologize for my foul mouthed-ness and lack of selflessness, but please, put forth all blame on Tony Stark for he has wronged me of my once innocent ways) 

I shoot a rubber band at the window of the door (Kudos to Clint for teaching me how to shoot and aim a rubber band) to get Tony's attention and make him come outside so we can discuss important matters... within concealment of an unused janitor's closet. 

He automatically looks up from where he's been working and raises his hand, using some excuse to get out of class. He takes a pass from the gray haired teacher and moseys his way out the door, and over to me.

"No fair, we were actually going to blow shit up in class today." He whines. 

"Oh hush," I reply, starting towards the closet. 

Tony seems sort of quiet as we walk and every time I look over at him to give him a seductive smirk or even this one eyebrow raise thing that just seems to turn him right on, his eyes just divert into a different direction. Usually, Tony would run his mouth over the course of everything that has happened in just under half an hour or start explaining the things he wishes to do to me once we reach the confines of one of our many secret spots. 

"Are you alright?" I ask. 

"Yeah, I'm fine... I'm just kind of out of it." He replies, adding a yawn to it. 

"I told you to eat breakfast this morning." I push open the door to the closet, allowing Tony in first. 

"And I told you that I wanted to blow up shit today but you're not letting me, now are you?" 

"You're a jerk." I smirk. 

"And you're a fucking punk" He says, leaning in on his tiptoes and pressing his lips against mine rather forcefully. 

"Round one?" I manage to huff out through the kiss. 

"Dear God, no. This doesn't count." 

"Why not?" I laugh, pulling my shirt off. 

"Those are for tonight." 

"Alright, Tones." I roll my eyes, pulling him in again and kissing him. I start sliding my hands down the small of his back until I reach the hem of his jeans and I continue until they're under the elastic of his boxers and tug them off until— 

*** 

The day proceeds on as any other day at Shield High. I ended up making it seconds before the bell rang for history to come to an end— and then I made my way to gym with probably a little more energy than anticipated where I outran everybody in the mile and carried a sobbing and dry heaving Tony to the room of lockers. Then, of course, he coaxed me into yet another make-out session before we parted our ways to fourth period. 

As any high school goes, there's always rumors spurring around. This weeks installment includes Bruce Banner punching a freshman,Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov were caught stabbing each other in the copy room, this stoner named Wade Wilson was busted for selling weed in the bathroom, and Tony Stark and Steve Rogers (Hey, that's us!) were having intercourse in various abandoned locations. Typical week for the kids of Shield High. 

As the day comes to end, I find myself waiting in my usual spot on top of the hood of Tony's car while he's probably scavenging through our locker right now for his things to take home. 

Tony walks out through the façade of the building, making his way towards me with his head bowed down. He's still acting pretty bizarre. 

"Hey." I greet him. 

"Hi..." He replies, getting into the drivers side. I reciprocate the action by getting into the passenger side of the car. 

"Is everything alright?" I ask. "You seem off..." 

"I told you, I'm fine. I'm just tired." 

"Even when you're tired, you're never _this_ quiet." 

"I'm just fucking tired, alright?" He snaps. 

"You're acting funny." 

"I take that as a compliment. I am funny." 

"Tony.. What's up?" I keep pestering. I can tell when Tony is hiding something and it's obvious that he is. 

"NOTHING, JUST SHUT UP!" He yelled. 

We both fell silent and Tony kept his eyes glued on the road the rest of the way home. It wasn't often that we argued or even yelled at each other, for that matter. Most of the time, it was just one of us teasing or mocking the other and it often resulted in a make-out session or tickle fight or something like that. 

Tony pulls into the gigantic asphalt driveway and just sits in the car, staring blankly ahead of him. I start to apologize but Tony begins talking, cutting me off. 

"I'm sorry," He sighs. "I'm just really stressed out today. I have a fuck ton of work to do for physics and AP exams are coming up and I just really want to do as best as I possibly can because I just want to get a scholarship and go to MIT and just leave this fucking hellhole... With you of course. Then I'm probably going to be the heir of my dad's company and we'll be richer than ever because he has shit ideas with how to invest his company's money and I actually have really fucking awesome ideas, and then soon I'm going to have the title of 'Greatest Businessman of Our Time!' and then I'll be the richest man alive and those other businessmen can kiss my fucking ass and then we'll have kids maybe... Well, that's only if you _want_ kids... If you don't, I completely understand. We'll just live together and fu—" 

I plant a kiss firmly on Tony's lips to keep him from rambling on and on. 

"Y-You're not mad?" He parts away, looking up at me with those big brown puppy eyes of his. 

"Of course not. It's okay, Tony." I smile at him. 

"O-Okay..." He replies, heading out of the car. 

I follow him inside and we go downstairs to the lab so I can work on my algebra homework and Tony can work on whatever it is that he wants to blow up for the night. Nothing too special really happens in the lab other than Tony trying to seduce me with his superior knowledge of algebraic algorithms. (It doesn't sound that sexy but believe me, Tony Stark can make _anything_ sound sexy) 

We try to refrain from having intercourse in the lab mainly because Howard comes down here a lot... Plus, the lab's entire perimeter is made out of windows, so there's really no hiding place for us. 

"Boys," Howard calls from upstairs. "I got us dinner!" 

"Coming!" Tony calls out, still occupying himself with his work. 

"C'mon, let's go." I say. 

"Hold on a sec, I'm busy" Tony responds, focused intently on a glass vile with a chemical of sorts. 

"The food is going to get cold!" Howard calls out again. 

"SHUT UP, HOWARD. DO YOU WANT ME TO FUCKING EXPLODE THE DAMN HOUSE?!" Tony shouts. 

"GET YOUR ASS UP HERE NOW!" 

"HOLD FUCKING ON!" 

Through the midst of all this shouting, I just stand here like the good boy I am and pray that it'll all be over soon. Tony and Howard have a rather interesting relationship. I wouldn't say they love each other, but they don't hate each other, either. They're just kind of like those friends who insult each other 24/7, but at the end of the day, they're still going to care for each other... Even if it's in a strange, twisted way. 

Tony heaves a sigh and slides his goggles off of his head which have left impressions around his eyes,wiping the grease off his forehead with it. 

"Ready?" I ask. 

"Uh huh" He replies, rolling his eyes and following me upstairs. 

The instant I step foot inside of the dining hall, my nostrils are permeated by the sweet essence of Chinese take-out. I'm assuming Howard didn't want to go through the trouble of whipping up a full-course meal given that he's going on another weapons tour for his company tomorrow. I wasn't going to complain, though. I don't think Howard realizes that we'd much rather eat greasy fast food over a meal big enough to feed an entire village. 

Tony sits across from me, immediately digging into his egg rolls without giving so much as a word or acknowledgement to Howard. 

I clear my throat, attempting at a conversation, which will probably piss Tony off beyond belief. "So, you leave tomorrow?" I ask, stuffing my face in fried rice. 

"Yeah, you guys will be on your own for the week... Which leads me to my house rules." 

Tony let's out a groan at that remark. "Why do we still even have those? We're not five!" He whines. 

"Some of us in this household still require them." Howard ripostes, staring directly at Tony.

Tony rolls his eyes. "So what are these rules that I may or may not follow?" 

"You _will_ follow them or I'll make you work as a janitor in the office building." 

"BUT—" 

"Continue, please." I interrupt, hoping they wouldn't get into another one of their arguments. 

Howard heaves out an exhausted sigh. "Alright, there will be absolutely _no_ parties. I don't want a phone call from the cops again." 

"Why not? We're going to be celebrating your departure." Tony sneers. 

"I mean it." He ordered. 

Another eye roll coming from Tony. "Next law?" 

"I expect the house to be the same way I left it when I get back." 

"You don't have to worry about that with the infamous Steven Rogers living under our roof. He thrives for the thrill of maintaining neat and tidy homes." 

"Tony..." Howard says with a stern tone of voice. I wasn't sure if Howard was either going to strangle Tony or slap him... or both.

"It's fine, Mr. Stark. It's true." I butt in again. 

"See?" Tony smirks.

Howard lets out another sigh. "I expect you to follow these rules," He turns to my direction now. "And Steve, I expect you to make sure that Tony follows these rules." 

"Got it." I reply. 

"Alright, now up to bed you go." And with that, Howard waves a hand at our butler, summoning him to discard the cardboard boxes and put whatever remains in our fridge. 

Tony and I make our way upstairs, this time choosing my bedroom to inhabit for the night. 

"I don't want to go to sleep. I still have shit to do in the lab." Tony whines. 

I shut the door softly behind me, biting on my lower lip. "Do you have to? Technically, we haven't even started round one."

"Hmm," Tony ponders, stroking his dusky 5 o'clock shadow even though it's 10 o'clock. "Very tempting, if I must say." He's smirking at me, sashaying over to where I stand. He trails his fingers around my back and over the collar of my shirt, pulling me down so I am level with his face. 

I can already feel my cheeks flushing with red and my heart racing faster and faster with each movement we took. Every single motion was filled with grace despite how fast paced we were going; everything felt right. 

The next thing I know, we're lying completely naked on top of each other underneath my sheets. It doesn't matter anymore, because all I know is that my love for Tony Stark is completely unconditional. 

*** 

It's back again. 

*** 

_Thousands of soldiers stand before me. They all look the same and they all wear the same expression... That's because they're all the same person. Same blonde hair that hangs just above their forehead, same cold blue eyes, same worn appearance, same exact face as mine._

_Except, it's not me._

_They all begin laughing and tittering in unison at me, and I can feel them inching closer and closer. My eardrums are ringing so hard I feel like they're going to burst. I clutch my ears, hoping to mute the awful sound, but it only grows louder and louder. It's almost as if they're in my head._

_I can feel the air getting hot and heavy and it starts to weigh me down until I'm sinking into the floor. The soldiers continue stomping towards me with their iron clad boots and the earth rumbles before me. I scream at the very top of my lungs pleading for help, only to be returned by the mockery of these men screaming back at me._

_I try pushing past them but they're as hard as a rock. I attempt at thrashing back and forth but I am bound by the invisible ropes that keep me tied to the floor. I try to make myself small, in hopes that the soldiers will just graze past me. I try everything in my willpower that could set me free but I am trapped. Stuck._

_All of the sudden, the soldiers start dissolving, one by one. Their laughter transforms into a hideous screech, and what remains of their clothing piles on top of me. I cannot breathe. They're suffocating me. I gasp for breath and I try to fill my lungs with as much oxygen as I can, but it feels as though I'm trying to get fresh air from a tiny straw._

_Everything blacks and out, but I can still hear the cackles and screams. They're still getting louder and louder until—_

*** 

"STEVE! STEVE!" I hear a voice yell. I clench my eyes even harder, hoping it wasn't another nightmare. I feel something hard whack me in the head which automatically makes me shoot up in bed. (Thankfully, I didn't knock into something this time) "Wake the fuck up!" Tony shouts. 

Suddenly, I'm snapped back into reality. I can hear the alarm blaring obnoxiously loud next to my ear and the sink running in the background. 

My heart is still racing and my breathing is rather erratic and ragged. I use the back of my hand to wipe the beads of sweat dripping from my forehead and swing my legs over the bed. Still naked. Of course. 

"You still need to take a shower, silly." Tony laughs as he rummages through my dressers, searching for any hoodie that he can proudly advertise on his narrow chest for me. 

I nod, standing up shakily and plodding to the bathroom. I can still hear Tony babbling on and on about last night— completely oblivious to my nightmare that happened just shortly after we fucked each other into the oblivion. (Can't really say I'm sorry for swearing there... It's true) 

"Last night was pretty good, Steve. Well, actually it was more than good. It was fucking awesome. I didn't even know you had that in you, goddamn. Well, I guess it's always the quiet ones that you always have to watch out for. They're like those silent but deadly farts. Not that I'm calling you a fart... Or an assassin... SPEAKING OF DEADLY THINGS, HOLY FUCK STEVE MY BACK IS KILLING ME JESUS CHRIST. I SWEAR YOU'RE GOING TO SNAP ME IN HALF ONE OF THESE DAYS AND THEN YOU'RE GOING TO BE HAVING SEX WITH A DEAD CORPSE AND I'M PRETTY SURE THAT'S ILLEGAL SOMEWHERE. YOU'RE GOING TO BE A FUCKING OUTLAW AND NOBODY WILL LOVE YOU ANYMORE. PEOPLE CAN SAY GOODBYE TO THE SWEET AND INNOCENT STEVE ROGERS BECAUSE HE WILL BE LONG GONE." 

Tony was always irritating and his ramblings literally made you want to shoot him in the face and then shoot yourself because he's just so unbearable (I don't even know how I manage to live under the same roof as him). However, I will say that today, it kind of put me at ease. 

"Sorry, I'll take it easy on you this time" I laugh. 

Tony pops his head inside of the shower curtain as soon as he hears that. "Fuck no. I'm not a goddamn fucking pansy." 

"Suit yourself" I shrug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We do not own any characters aforementioned in this story. All rights and ownership belongs to Marvel.
> 
> Expect an update from Sarah (Writer of Tony) in the next couple of weeks! 
> 
> Thank you and please review. It's as lovely to us as sex is to Tony.


	3. Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, a happy belated birthday to my co-writer and best friend, Sarah! Everybody wish her a happy birthday! (:
> 
> Just another reminder that there may be some errors with character names because this is an OC story that we have altered to fit the personas of Steve and Tony. If you see any unfamiliar name, let us know! 
> 
> Without further ado, here is Chapter 3! (:

I promptly leave the premises of Steve's room without further intrusion upon his morning shower. Naturally, I might decide to join him in his hot shower-- which, are not quite the Satan piss heated showers that I generally take, and proceed to make out with him and possibly initiate in some rather soapy intercourse even if I had already bathed myself (Which I have).

 

However, I do not commit the actions aforementioned that are general in my personal nature because my mind is elsewhere at the moment. My usually sex-obsessed mind can only stray to a single thought that is accompanied by memories that I'd rather not relive ever again. But contrary to the idea that rich kids always get what they want, I do not, for even the smartest and richest of men cannot push back cruel and taunting memories that unfortunately make up their ghastly past.

 

XxX

 

For me, that unforgiving past is made up by one Tiberius Stone-- the certified asshat who had snuck behind me in a predator-like way while I was at my locker. His actions were frighteningly similar to that of the sleek Natasha Romanov.

 

His silky whisper had quickened the pace of my diseased heart, leading me to fear that I would soon collapse in a gasping fit of under oxygenation. His icy voice sent fear rushing in my veins and left my skin prickled by goose bumps. The firm touch of his large palm on my rather bony shoulder made my stomach churn violently. Nausea had rode up my throat with the sour taste of stomach acid that burned my esophagus as though a flame was licking the passage up to my throat.

 

"Y-yeah," I managed to respond to his inquiry of the party I was certainly going to have despite my father's wishes. I peered up at his freckled face, my usual confident and slightly (okay very) cocky demeanor stripped of me as my eyes peered into his onyx eyes.

 

"I'll see you then, Stark." He had purred in a way that I'd once found seductive but now found to be horrifyingly dreadful as it ignited those memories that were flooding into my head against my will. My dams were finally breaking and there was no way to stop them.

 

"Y-you shouldn't go." I said meekly. Oh God, why wasn't a teacher coming to my rescue? The bell was to ring any moment. Somebody should've been coming out and yelling at us to get to class. I would even take a long lecture right now over the hell Ty had been giving me as he had be vulnerably backed up against my own locker.

 

"And why's that? Big ol' Steve gonna fight me for you, Tones?" He chuckled, shaking his head at his own words.

 

"N-no!" I squeaked. God, it sounded pitiful even to me. " I will!"

 

"Oh, Tones," he hisses as his long fingers find their way to my mess of dark hair that suddenly feels far too thick on my surely sweat drenched head. "You're so pathetic. I almost feel sorry for you."

 

"Stop," I sobbed as tears burned my eyes. I felt absolutely useless at that point. "Please."

 

He cackled as tremors started to rack my body. "You're just as weak as I remembered." He sneered cunningly as he pressed his chapped lips against my quivering ones. "I'll see you there, Stark."

 

He turned away, walking like the predator he certainly is. Leaving me, the limp remains of his slaughtered prey.

 

As he turned the corner towards the south staircase, I fell into a sprint that my heart doctor would have certainly denounce upon as my stomach rose to my throat. I kicked open the first stall, not bothering to lock the door as I collapsed in a heap in front of the toilet and choked up the very meager contents of my stomach. I didn't even care that I'd undoubtedly be late to physics as my worst memories that I'd tried so desperately to repress, flooded my mind at the force of Niagara falls.

 

xXx

 

Tiberius Stone and I began dating towards the end of our eighth grade year when we discovered our equal passion for the beautiful art that is mechanical engineering (Of course my knowledge was much more advanced than his, but he was still on a level that was worthy of my affections). Our friendship bloomed at an exponential rate as we spent hours upon hours discussing different forms of circuitry and the leading engine brands.

 

I found myself suddenly beguiled by not only our long conversations and time spent together, but by his dark hair, teeth that were slightly crooked, (Eventually fixed by braces) and his enrapturing laugh that warmed my heart and made my pants feel tight in a way that my adolescent body still hadn't adapted to.

 

At the time of Ty and I's friendship, I already knew that I had a thing for guys as opposed to girls. Girls just never served my interest. I mean, girls are magical creatures that can do amazing things if I must say so myself, but if I was to ever get romantically involved with anyone, it'd be somebody of the male gender. I had announced this to Howard and my friends just a month after turning thirteen.

 

Much to my surprise, Howard-- who had already began his path of expressing his disapproval in me, and all of my friends had expressed acceptance to me. In fact, none of them even seemed that surprised. However, to be quite honest, I only cared what skinny little Steve thought. I didn't want to lose my best friend just because of my sexuality.  
I was uncertain as to how Ty felt about me. Was I just a friend to him? What if he was revolted by my feelings for him? What if he told everybody that I was nothing but a faggot and didn't even want to be my friend anymore? Oh God what would I do without Ty?

 

Had I known the future that lay ahead, I would have prayed that Ty had been exactly what I feared.

 

Then, one chilly January night in the eighth grade, we were watching Finding Nemo in a fort of blankets. I began to babble as Nemo insisted that he was completely capable of touching the butt. Throughout my mindless drivel, I accidentally let it slip that I like-liked him and my face had immediately bled a crimson tone as I began to apologize and scolded myself.

 

"Don't worry," Ty said casually, with his crooked grin, "I like you that way too."

 

And before my jaw could drop, Ty's lips were pressed against mine. Oh and good God I can tell you that after that night, Nemo wasn't the only one touching butts.  
Soon Ty and I were deemed the cutest couple in school-- or as cute as any adolescent couple can be. It remained that way for the rest of eighth grade and continued throughout summer vacation.

 

We spent our days against each other, saying sweet nothings, breaking each other's barriers all the way up to the day before our freshmen year was to start-- the day Tiberius Stone, took away I, Tony Stark's virginity away.

 

It was a hot, boiling August day. We had spent our last day of summer at the beach in New York City. We had taken turns doing flips off of the dock and swimming out as far as we could while splashing each other playfully. Soon the sun had dipped beyond the horizon, cooling the atmosphere much to our pleasure and replaced the blue sky with hues of pink and orange.

 

The population of families and other couples began to diminish with the knowledge that summer did not last forever and that everybody would soon be waking up early the next day to face another year of school. Soon all the picnic blankets, screeching children that ran around naked across the rocky sand and sunburnt teenage girls that were trying at the last minute to acquire a tan had abandoned the lake leaving just me, Ty, a sleeping pair of grandparents and a lifeguard who was currently texting on his phone, not concerned whatsoever about two teenage boys who could most likely swim on their own.

 

Ty held me close in waist-deep water, peering down at my shorter form and casting a smile upon his freckled face. "I love you."

 

"I love you too." I said, my heart beating quickly in it's cage, threatening to escape as my brain melted and hormones surged in my fourteen-year-old body.

 

He raised a hand to my cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb. "I want to make this the best last day of summer ever, Tony Stark."

 

"Okay." I whispered to him, closing my eyes as I allowed my face to sink into his palm.

 

He leaned in, his hot breath against my ear, "I want you tonight."

 

I felt chills across my spine and a warmth shooting down to my lower half which Ty most certainly felt in the water if the grin that spread across his face was any indication.

 

"Okay." I responded, leaning into his taller body.

 

"Call your dad to take us home." He told me as we walked out of the water.

 

I did as he asked and we waited impatiently for Howard to pull up to the lake. Our minds were focused on nothing except kissing roughly in my room until we collapse onto my bed...

 

I honestly felt ridiculously nervous at the thought of having sex with Ty that night. What if I wasn't any good? What if it hurt? What if my heart decided to freak out on me? What if he didn't like the way I looked naked? What if Howard walked in upon us and freaked out?

 

These thoughts raced through my mind the whole way home and I found myself at a loss of words when Howard asked if Ty was going home and if not when did he want to go home.

 

Ty must have sensed my nervousness and answered smoothly, "My dad said I could stay the night since it's the last day of summer and we won't be doing much tomorrow in school anyways, that is, if it's okay with you, Mr. Stark."

 

"Sounds alright to me, but don't be up late playing tonsil hockey. We're getting out the door by seven, Tones."

 

"I'll make sure he gets to sleep early, Mr. Stark." Ty assured him, a grin spreading across his features.

 

Once we arrived at the mansion, Ty and I quickly darted up the staircase and into my room. Ty leaned against the door, allowing it to close beneath his weight and stepped quickly over to me, pulling my face against his into a vicious make out session where both of us fought for dominance over the other's swollen lips.

 

His heavier weight was able to push me backwards against my bed and he soon parted away from me, beads of sweat forming at his still wet hairline. "Do you want this?" He asked me. "I won't do this unless you give me your consent."

 

My heart exploded in joy when he said this. He truly cared about me. He wasn't going to do anything to me unless I actually wanted it. That, to me, was how it felt to be loved. He could clearly feel my arousal throbbing against his leg but he still had the generosity to make sure that my heart and my mind wanted what he was going to give to me and that meant the world to me.

 

"You have my consent, Tiberius Stone." I whispered huskily.

 

And before I knew, it our swim trunks are left discarded in a damp heap next to my desk and Ty is straddled over me, pulling my thighs apart as he inserts one, then two, then three fingers into me.

 

"God, you're beautiful.... and tight." Ty chuckled as he removed his fingers from my hole. "First time?"

 

"Uh huh," I said, slightly disappointed as his fingers stop their rapid movement, but I knew what was to come next and it'd feel much better than his three slender fingers for sure. "You?"

 

"Yep." He said as he grinned devilishly at me, positioning himself over me after spreading the warm lubricant onto his cock and on the entrance of my hole. "Ready?"

 

I nodded, my breath growing quick and shallow. I was secretly praying that I didn't have an SVT attack then and there. However, soon enough Tiberius Stone was blowing my mind as he thrusted into me for the very first time.

 

That night had been absolutely extraordinary. I had never felt both so pleasured and loved by him. Nobody had ever made me feel that way. When Ty finally came and collapsed next to me, he had looked over at me and asked if I was okay and I had told him yes. He smiled at me and pulled me up against him, draping the covers over our naked and sweaty bodies.

 

"I love you so much, Tony." He said, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

 

"I love you too, Ty."

 

He pulled my head against his chest, allowing me to hear his rather quick heartbeat (Of course it paled in comparison to mine and I should have probably taken some medication, but I was too enamored by him to even think of moving for something that should be taken seriously but at that time seemed too trivial to even consider). Soon, his heartbeat came to a steady sixty-two beats per minute that became music to my ear. The beat began to numb my senses and soon the only thing on my mind was the steady sound of his heart that steadily lured me into a peaceful sleep.

 

At that moment, there was nothing that I had cared about more than my unequivocal love for Tiberius Stone. He was everything to me and from his actions, I was everything to him. Everything was perfect.

 

But like all relationships, that honeymoon phase had to come to an unfortunate end. Sometimes that meant the energy to put forth effort in the relationship halted and you would start putting off daily showers, you would wear ratty t-shirts and grease stained sweatpants around each other, ate sweets with no care towards any weight that you gained and farted freely around your partner. Other times, it meant arguing, nasty comments and fights that'd scar you eternally.

 

Ours ended up becoming the latter of the two.

 

Ty's less than friendly side made it's presence known to me in December of our freshman year when we were laying in his bed, clad in pajamas while watching some corny 80's film. Ty was dragging his fingers across my abdomen which was slowly pulling me to sleep. But then suddenly he decided to squish my flesh together which completely interrupted the trance of relaxation I'd fallen into.

 

"Hey!" I yelled playfully, scrunching up my nose at Ty.

 

"You're pudgy." He stated matter of factly as he squished the flesh tighter

 

"Excuse me?" I huffed out indignantly, sitting up straight, feeling a sense of hurt in my chest that actually felt worse than the pain I experienced whenever my SVT kicked in.

 

I was never a fat kid, nor was I stick thin. I was average height and rather compact in stature. If I had to describe my figure, I'd call it stocky if anything. I mean, there was no way I was going to be slender seeing as I was a rich kid who was literally handed assorted gourmet meals on a silver platter throughout my entire life. Plus, my SVT made it somewhat difficult for me to over exert myself. But it wasn't like I sat on a flabby ass all day, eating meal after meal until I was as overweight as Clint should be by his eating habits. I moved about and did exercises that were meant to strengthen my heart and I ate healthy whenever I could.

 

"I'm just saying that you're not that fit."

 

"I'm not fat." I spat venomously, suddenly feeling absolutely outraged by his comment. Who was he to make comments on my physique? It wasn't like he was Mr. Muscles or anything special.

 

"Calm down, Tonesy. I never said you were fat." He laughed and this served to infuriate me even further, "I simply said you were chunky."

 

"I am not!" I persisted, my cheeks flooding with color as I pushed away from him, crossing my arms over my chest.

 

"Okay fine fine fine! You're so skinny and beautiful. You're absolutely perfect." He shouted out, throwing his arms dramatically in the air, "You happy? Jesus Christ you can be such a goddamned girl sometimes."

 

Suddenly my anger is replaced by heartbreak. Did he really not think I was beautiful? Was I not perfect in his eyes? I always thought Tiberius loved me for me. Was I really ugly in his eyes and he just stayed with me for the sex or something? Oh God.

 

I suddenly stood up and walked over to his full length mirror, staring at myself. I began to notice all of my flaws. My eyes were slightly too big for my face. My nose was rather large at the base, my nostril size was slightly uneven due to a broken nose I'd obtained in a biking accident, my shoulders were too narrow, I had acne along my jawline where oily hands held my face up in class, and worst of all was the extra flesh that resided on my torso that I never seemed to notice before.

 

"I didn't notice it." I whispered, tears pooling in my eyes.

 

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'd love you even if you got fatter."

 

Fatter? Was I already fat? When had I let myself go so much?

 

"I-I'm sorry." I choked, tears starting to run down my cheeks which I had found to be too fat as well.

 

"Don't cry, Tonesy." Ty said, putting his hands through my mess of dark hair.

 

"I can make it better if you want." I squeaked, peering up at him, searching for approval in those black beetle eyes.

 

"Whatever you want, Tones." He smiled, planting a kiss on my forehead.

 

No, I thought to myself. Whatever you want, Ty.

 

After that day, I joined Steve, who was in the midst of a rather impressive growth spurt, in his daily trips to the gym. Steve was excited that I had decided to join him seeing as most of my excess time was spent with Tiberius.

 

I actually really liked going out with Steve each and every day to the gym. It was fun to see the kid who once could hardly breathe after walking 100 meters, lifting 200 pound weights with ease and running on the treadmill for hours at a time-- the not so fun part was the fact that Steve, who had always been shorter than me, was now towering over me. Not only that, but we just talked about everything together like we had when we were kids and it was nice to know that I had a true friend that I could really confide in.

 

In the process of going to the gym with Steve everyday, I had three brutal heart episodes that left me bed ridden for days at a time but was all worth it in the long run because I ended up losing a full sixteen pounds and whatever fat remained on my body was transformed into lean muscle. I wasn't built like Steve obviously, but my body was toned and I believed that I had finally gained Ty's affections once more.

 

But of course, I was wrong.

 

Ty seemed enthralled by my sudden weight loss-- my doctor wasn't, but I only cared about what Ty thought, to be honest. He was everything to me. So I kept it off and probably lost more with a few skipped meals there and then.

 

But even my new body wasn't enough for Ty. He began to snap at me more often. Shooting glares at me if I said something that he thought to be stupid or yelling at me to shut my goddamned mouth and that nobody gave two shits about that I had to say.

 

One time after our freshmen finals, we went to a local diner called Carry's that had been established in the outskirts of New York City in the early fifties. It was actually one of the first restaurants that allowed both blacks and whites to eat on the premises. But random historical facts aside, we were eating there as a sort of celebration that we were no longer "fresh-meat" and had successfully passed our finals with flying colors.

 

I was eating a healthy salad in order to preserve the figure I had gotten for Tiberius and he was eating a greasy burger that I secretly craved but knew I would end up falling back to the ugly slob that Tiberius didn't deserve.

 

I started talking about a project I was working on and I was getting really enthusiastic about the whole thing because, well, anything scientific makes me really happy. It was like a safe haven for me. Ever since I began dating Ty, I had less time with my precious projects and anytime I found to play around with them was a blessing to me (Not that time spent with Ty wasn't a blessing).

 

I am a very emotional speaker and as my happiness grew as I was discussing my invention, I started to flail my arms around as I explain in detail exactly what it was that I was building and the circuity to it and all the planning I was in the process of to create some new invention. I continued to get more and more animated with my movements and suddenly my hand bumped into Ty's glass of Sprite thus knocking it over, soaking his smart phone with the sugar filled liquid.

 

"FUCK!" Tiberius screamed as he leaped up from his seat, pop soaking his dark wash jeans and his t-shirt. "LOOK WHAT YOU DID, TONY."

 

I quickly proceeded to grab a hunk of napkins and tried to soak up the sticky mess. I felt my face burn as bystanders in opposing booths stopped to stare at us.

 

"YOU FUCKING RUINED MY PHONE." He claimed and alas he was right as he tried to turn it on. The screen remained black.

 

"Y-You could try soaking it in rice." I peeped out, shrinking into myself.

 

"THAT'S NOT GOING TO WORK, YOU DUMB FUCK." He snapped, slamming his fist on the table, which sent me backing up on my side of the cushioned booth.

 

"I-I'll buy you a new one!" I suggested, giving him a trembling smile.

 

"YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO IF YOU WEREN'T SO GODDAMNED STUPID ALL THE FUCKING TIME."

 

The restaurant was absolutely silent with the exception of my teeth chattering and Ty's shouting. Oh God why hadn't somebody kicked us out yet? It would hurt either way if Ty had been yelling at me but at least it would have spared me the humiliation of being publicly berated. But it seemed that everybody was too absorbed in the drama between the two of us to put an end to this.

 

"GUESS WHAT TONY? I DON'T GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT YOUR STUPID FUCKING PROJECT. IT'S POINTLESS AND A WASTE OF MY TIME. I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY BECAUSE NINETY PERCENT OF THE TIME WHAT YOU SAY IS OF LITTLE SIGNIFICANCE YOU FUCKING IDIOT." He screeched, his lips curled in a way I had never seen before and it terrified me as his spit flew from his mouth and splashed onto my ashen face.

 

"I-I'm sorry." I whimpered, tears rolling down my cheeks.

 

"Fuck off, Stark." He hissed as he stormed out the door to wait for his father to pick him up, still clutching his ruined cellphone.

 

I stood in a state of shock, my chest tightening up painfully in a way that had landed me in the hospital about six times already. I attempted to keep my composure and not collapse dramatically in front of the other people who continue to stare at me with gaping mouths while I shakily cleaned the soda off the booth and then left a twenty on the table which easily paid for our meal and left a generous tip at the same time. I proceeded to grab my phone, my other hand fluttering to my chest which had grown more painful with my movements and quickly walked outside, averting my eyes from the people around me whose eyes burned into my skin.

 

When I got outside, I collapsed in a heap on the stairs. Tiberius had already been picked up by his father seeing as he was no longer in sight. I was left alone in tears and in the midst of a tachycardia attack. I shakily called an ambulance to haul ass and get me to the hospital to inject me with miracle drugs to palliate the stabbing pains in my chest. After I gave my location and explained who I was and what's wrong, they told me they'd be there ASAP. I texted my father to tell him I had to go to the hospital again.

 

True to the operator's words, they were there within minutes and of course, the bystanders that watched me get brutally rebuked by my boyfriend ended up pressing their noses against the window to watch me get an oxygen mask put around my face and loaded up into the ambulance.

 

Turns out that was the worse attack yet in the words of my doctor and it looked like I was going to have to have the first of many surgeries! WOO HOO! But the idea of being put under the knife and possibly dying had no comparison as to the hurt I felt when I thought about Ty's words to me.

 

I ended up crying on my first night there and I allowed Howard to believe that it was all because of the idea of surgery.

 

On my third and final day in the hospital, Tiberius decided to visit me. Unlike everybody else who visited me: Steve, Bruce, Steve again, Natasha accompanied by Clint, and Steve a few more times, he didn't bring flowers or some food that would save me from the poor excuse of hospital meals. He came wearing cargo shorts and a tank top, carrying a brand new smart phone and wearing a grin.

 

I smiled feebly at him, afraid that he'd start to accost me once more. But he does not live up to my expectations. Instead, he sat next to me in the hospital chair that is surly still warm from Steve's butt-- which was actually starting to get too big to fit into the rather small chair. Puberty was definitely doing him a favor.

 

"Heard about your incident." He deadpanned.

 

I didn't bother to ask how long he knew about it. I knew he found out from Howard on the day it happened, but he never visited me until that moment.

 

"Yeah. I'm having surgery in July... that way, I'll be able to go to school when the rest of you guys start..."

 

"That kind of sucks."

 

"I'll have a really ugly scar." I whispered in some hope that he'd assure me that regardless of scars, I'd still be good enough for him.

 

"I guess you'll have to wear a shirt when we have sex then." He stated. He meant it, too.

 

"Suppose so."

 

"Hey... I'm actually really sorry for yelling at you." That grabbed my attention immediately. "But you should know not to be so stupid all the time, Tony. Not everybody cares about what you have to say... you know?"

 

My heart instantly dropped. But at the time, I thought that he might be right. "Okay."

 

"Good." He responded, a grin ghosting upon his face.

 

Of course, since the world likes to shit upon my life, things got worse.

 

Ty started to get... physical with me. I don't mean sex, either. He actually began to hurt me. It started off with little things. He started digging his nails into my thighs, leaving crescent shaped grooves in my skin anytime he was annoyed with me and we were in public.

 

The first time it happened is the first day of sophomore year when we were sitting together at lunch... away from my usual clan of friends because Ty said he just wants it to be me and him and I thought that it was okay (Even though no other couple seemed to do that, but I made no remarks). As I was sipping my juice, I saw a very tall and muscular individual walk in wearing a shirt that seemed to cling to his cut body like a second skin. He was absolutely beautiful and then as my gaze deepens at this mystery man, I realize it was my best friend... STEVE FUCKING ROGERS. God, he'd always been cute to me, but at that moment, he was like perfection beyond words.

 

My jaw dropped slightly, causing juice to drip out of my mouth and my mind completely zoned out from whatever the fuck Tiberius was rambling on about. Steve seemed to catch my eye from across the cafeteria and waved his muscled arm at me, a pearly white smile cast upon his flawless features. My heart buzzed in my chest in a good way that would not require any form of medical attention. I mirrored his action, a grin appearing onto my face.

 

Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in my left thigh and I gasped in pain. Steve cocked his eyebrow at me, worry dripping into his face as I turned to Ty.

 

"Quit it. Now." He hissed sourly, his black eyes narrowed.

 

"I was just--"

 

"I saw the way you were looking at him and I want it to stop." The nails dug deeper into my thighs and I had to bite my lip from crying out. "Now."

 

"Okay." I gasped out as his talon-like nails left my thigh.

 

From then on, and it just got worse. He started shoving me around and his nails left blood in their wake wherever he decided to dig them into my skin. Sometimes it was my legs, sometimes my bicep, sometimes my shoulder and one particularly painful time, it was my back.

 

But then there was one night where the shoving and pinching actually became much, much worse for me.

 

We were fighting over how I was supposedly flirting with Steve... Okay, I guess I had to admit that I may have been a little more than friendly with him that day, but that didn't give him any right to react in the way he did... did it? I had been waiting for Ty to finish a test that he had to make up for his history teacher and as per usual, I was going to take him home with my newly earned driver's license in my black sports car that my father had gotten me for my sixteenth birthday.

 

But until then, I was sitting on one of the benches outside the school kicking my legs back and forth.

 

"Tony!" a voice that I could easily recognize said from behind me.

 

"Hey Steve!" I beamed, as I waved him over.

 

"So, you're a professional driver, huh?" He stated, waggling his eyebrows at me in a way that sent me into a fit of giggles.

 

"I am. Racer, Tony Stark." I announced, "Sweepin' Soarin' Stark! Has a good ring, huh?"

 

"Well, the alliteration is a little too much to be quite frank with you."

 

"Oh shut up, what do you know Mr. I still have my permit even though I turned sixteen three months ago?"

 

"Touché, Mr. Stark. Touché."

 

"I win."

 

"Oh really?"

 

"Really."

 

"I'm not so sure about that, Stark."

"And why do you say that oh wise Mr. Rogers?"

 

"Because you are a weak little pip squeak who could never take down the almighty Steve Rogers."

 

"What?!" I shouted. "You take that back."

 

"Mmmmm... I'd rather not." He snarked back, a very sexy smirk curled upon his face which had been beautifully tanned from the many sports Steve had taken up.

 

"Now or I shall demolish you!"

 

"Is that so?"

 

"It is."

 

"I don't think you could even shove me, Tones."

 

"Could so!" I insisted, rising to my feet-- always ready to take up a challenge.

 

"Bring it, shorty." He challenged, narrowing those beautiful crystal blue eyes of his.

 

I promptly pushed my not-so-heavy weight against him in a futile attempt to move his rock hard body back a few steps. But my attempt served to do nothing but embarrass me slightly. I let out a grunt as I continued to flex my lean muscles and move him onto his ass, but he did not budge in the slightest.

 

"I'm waiting, Tony."

 

"Shut it, you. I'm getting there."

 

He yawned dramatically behind a fist. "Or I could just do this," and soon I'm being swooped off my feet and into his arms bridal style.

 

"H-Hey!" I shouted, a laugh leaking into my voice. "Put me down!"

 

"Hmm, I'd rather not, Mr. Stark. I think I'm going to take you home and claim you as my own."

 

"Are you, Mr. Rogers? Are you really?"

 

"I just might."

 

I started laughing and I dropped my head into his shoulder. "You're a dork."

 

"I think that's you, Tones." He said, swinging me around with ease. People around us that were either talking about drug deals or were awaiting rides from their parents giggled behind their palms or stared at us with cocked brows.

 

"But I'm your dork."

 

"That you are, Tony." He agreed, with a slight laugh that ignited my own laughter all over again.

 

"Tony, come on." Huffed a voice from behind us that sent a slight chill down my spine. Steve turned around with me still in his arms and quickly put me back on my feet at the sight of Ty walking our way with a dirty scowl starting its path upon his features.

 

"Hey Tiberius," Steve greeted, waving his hand.

 

"Hi. Tony, I want to leave. Now." He urged, grabbing me roughly by my wrist and pulling me away from Steve.

 

"I'll see you later, Tones!" Steve added in his own attempt to ease my visually bad situation. Little does poor innocent Steven know that he probably just made it ten times worse for me.

 

I raised my arm to wave back but Ty grabbed my arm forcefully and pulled it down as he dragged me to my car.

 

"Drive. My place. Now."

 

"I have a te--"

 

"I don't give two fucks, you flirting bastard. We're going to have a little talk." I started to shake in my seat as I twisted the key, the car coming to life. "MOVE, NOW!"

 

I swallowed back the lump swelling upon my throat and drove through the roads that led us to Ty's home. Tiberius hopped out the car and ran over to my side before I could even unclip my seatbelt and yanked me out the moment I grabbed my keys. He pulled me by my hair and began to drag me in, ignoring my yelps of pain as some strands of hair said their final goodbyes to my scalp.

 

He hauled me up his stairs, unaware--or possibly he just didn't give two shits, that I was stumbling around and banging my head against the banister. Oh God, why couldn't his parents be home to do something for me?

 

He literally shoved me on my ass into his bedroom, his entire form shaking with a rage that outmatches what I'd seen at the diner.

 

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? FLIRTING WITH ROGERS?!"

 

"I-I wasn't flirting with him." I said as I stood up and I immediately regretted that decision.

 

Ty's hand came out of nowhere, slapping me at full force across the cheek which knocked me back down.

 

"TIBERIUS!" I shouted, my cheek beginning to throb at the sudden contact.

 

But the abuse didn't stop there. He swung his foot back, nailing me in the ribs. "OH, YOU WEREN'T FLIRTING WERE YOU, YOU PIECE OF FUCKING SHIT? THEN WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT?"

 

"WE'RE FRIENDS, TY!" I shouted in desperation.

 

"I NEVER SAID TO TALK BACK, FUCK FACE." He bellowed, his fists raining down upon me forcefully.

 

The beating did not avail for what felt like hours, but it was most likely a maximum of five brutal minutes. Ty kicked, punched and even clawed at my shaking body, ignoring my shouts of protest as the hits seemed to get harder and harder. Finally, after a fist to my lip-- which would surely be fat and bloody, he stopped and allows me to cower on the ground.

 

Sobs began to rack my body and I trembled violently as I curled up into the fetal position. My heart was pounding violently in my chest and I was almost certain that I was going to collapse from the rapid palpitations of my heart. Luckily, in a way that I found slightly unlucky, I remained totally conscious.

 

Tiberius then grabbed me by my hair, pulling my bruised and bloody face up to his snarling one. "I don't want you talking to him again. Got it?"

 

I nodded, another sob escaping my lips as tears started to run down my cheeks. He let me go, and I immediately fell to the ground and start wailing.

 

"Stop that, Tony, Jesus Christ." He ordered, as he knelt down to my quivering form. His hand went to stroke my hair and I unwillingly flinched away from him. He simply sighed and sat by my abused body.

 

"I wouldn't have to do that if you weren't so stupid all the time." He smiled weakly at me. "Come on, get up. I'll clean you up."

 

I shakily got up, still trying to catch my breath as he led me into the bathroom.

 

"Not gonna have a heart attack on me, are you?"

 

I shrugged my shoulders as he dampened a washcloth and pulled out his mother's makeup bag.

 

"Shirt off, pants down." He ordered and I obliged.

 

He started to wipe off any blood and felt up and down my ribs for fractures.

 

"They're probably just bruised." He stated more to himself than me as his eyes made his way to the ghastly scar that lie on the center of my chest. "God, that's ugly," he muttered. "Now, if only we could cover that up!" He added as he began to use his mother's concealer to disguise the bruises on my face, neck and anywhere where skin is generally exposed.

 

"You two are about the same skin tone so I'm going to let you take this home." He told me and I simply nodded, keeping my eyes on the floor.

 

"Hey, you brought this upon yourself, Stark. You need to realize that you are mine. I don't want you slutting around with other men." He said in a way he probably found saint-like. "I love you."

 

"Okay."

 

"Hey, come on." He ushered, using his index finger to lift my chin up to him. "Tell me you love me. You love me right?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Then say it, Tony."

 

"I love you."

 

"Good boy, now why don't we mosey on over to the bedroom?"

 

I really didn't want to, but my aching body insisted that I must in order to avoid a further beating, so I complied much to my own mental dismay.

 

But after that day, the beatings did not stop. In fact, they got a million times worse. My body was constantly aching all the time and bruises and cuts had basically become apart of my skin. There wasn't a week that went by without Ty finding something that he disliked about me that ended with me on the ground, crying hysterically as he abused me.

 

I had to tell myself that I deserved it. I made myself believe that sometimes I could be such a fucking moron.

 

However, during spring break of our sophomore year, Tyler and his family decided to head to the Virgin Islands for a weeklong vacation, which was a blessing upon me. I mean, I still loved Ty at that point (I think), but I was definitely not a fan of getting beat every time I did something stupid.

 

I was finally free for a week and it felt amazing. I was allowed to be all by myself-- and I could also hang out with Steve at his house without Ty knowing.

 

I was lying sprawled across Steve's bed while we played some war game that we used to play all the time-- used to meaning before I got sucked into dating the once perfect and giving Tiberius Stone. We were completely enjoying ourselves and yelling at each other to shoot the bad guys until Steve noticed a bruise on my wrist that had exposed itself when my sleeve rode up as I threw my arm in the air when we shot down all the enemies in the cave.

 

"What's that?" Steve gasped as he took notice to the large purple discoloration that marred my thin wrist.

 

"Huh?" I asked, stunned. Then, I noticed the direction of his eyes and my face suddenly burned and I yanked my sleeve down. "I fell."

 

But Steve didn't buy it. He immediately crawled over to me and grabbed my arm against my will. He lifted the sleeve to my sweatshirt above my elbow and eyed the finger print bruises that covered my arms.

 

"Tony... th-that... those are fingerprints." He stuttered, his eyes meeting mine. I tried to yank my arm away from him but my attempt was futile. "Who did this to you?"

 

"Nobody."

 

"It's Tiberius, isn't it?" I froze, my heart catching in my throat and my skin whitening at his accusation.

 

"No." I told him, my tone not convincing whatsoever.

 

"I knew something was up with you two." He sighed. "Tony, you can't let him do this to you."

 

"I-It's not that bad."

 

"Have you seen yourself, Tony?!" Steve exclaimed, his tone full of exasperation.

 

"Stop. Please." I plead, my body starting to tremble.

 

"Tony, please, look at me." Steve said, his voice sincere, as he placed a hand on my shoulder and for the first time in two years, I felt a sense of compassion-- as though for once, somebody actually cared about me.

 

I raised my eyes to meet his blue ones. I saw tears shimmering in his pale blue eyes. He was actually concerned about my well-being and it was the best feeling ever.

 

"I can tell you aren't happy in this relationship. You look tired all the time, you've lost weight, you don't talk to me anymore or any of our friends, for that matter. You're always skittish around people and every time Tiberius touches you... you cringe." Steve swallowed thickly, a stray tear rolling down his cheek and disappearing under his jaw.

 

"You can't let him do this to you. This... This isn't a way for you to live your life. You deserve better."

 

"I-I can't leave him."

 

"Yes you can, Tony. I have faith in you. J-Just get help." He urged me, desperation dripping in his tone, "Talk to somebody. Your dad, the cops, anybody. Just get away from him."

 

"Okay." I nodded.

 

"Promise?" He offered me his pinky, a weak smile creeping onto his face.

 

I couldn't help it when the ends of my lips curled up. Steve just had (has) a way with people-- specifically me. "I promise." I then wrapped my smaller pinky around his much larger one and I felt like maybe, just maybe, I'd be okay.

 

But of course, it was not okay.

 

I decided I needed to leave Tiberius as soon as possible when I truly saw myself in the mirror and I saw what Steve had told me was right. I looked exhausted. My cheeks were sunk in, dark orbit rings were around my eyes as the tattoo of permanent exhaustion. My shoulders were slumped forward and I could count almost all of my ribs. I looked empty and withdrawn. I had pushed away all of my friends and even my dad-- who surprised me the most.

 

My dad rarely expressed concern or noticed if anything was wrong with me unless it was in correlation to my heart. But, he did the day before Ty was to return from his spring vacation. He had been staring intently at me as I picked at my chicken salad that he'd made for dinner that night.

 

"Tony, are you okay?"

 

"Yeah, the ticker is doing fine."

 

"No, no. I mean... are you and Ty... okay?"

 

"What?"

 

"You just seem off. Is something going on with you two?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Do you want to talk to somebody? You can talk to me about this, Tony... or if you don't want to, I can call a therap--"

 

"You don't have to." I interrupted, "I'm probably breaking up with him anyways."

 

"Do you want--"

 

"No, it's okay. I've already thought it out." I assured him, "I'm going to talk to him tomorrow."

 

"Okay, kiddo. Just... don't feel like you can't talk to me."

 

"Oh yeah, cause you just love hearing about my feelings, Howard." I laughed.

 

"Tony... I mean it." He sighed, "You're worrying me."

 

I cringed slightly but I made no response and he didn't push me any further than that.

 

Tiberius came home early morning the next day and I felt beyond terrified about what I was going to do in the process of breaking up with him. I felt like I still loved him in a twisted kind of way, but Steve was right. I couldn't keep doing this. I couldn't leave myself in that kind of position any longer.

 

He texted me when he got home.

 

Ty: Hey.

Me: Hi. How was the trip?

Ty: Pretty good. :) You do anything?

Me: Not really. Just lazed around really.

Ty: Didn't go to Rogers, did you??

Me: Nah. I just hung out with my dad and built stuff.

Ty: Nice.

Me: Can I come over?

Ty: Yeah. But can it wait? We're unpacking still.

Me: Yeah. What time is good for you?

Ty: Uh how about 6?? My parents are going grocery shopping then and that way we can be alone. ;D

 

I cringed at that thought.

 

Me: yeah sounds good.

Ty: Alright see you then. ;)))

Me: Bye.

 

I was beyond horrified at the thought of breaking it off with Ty when his parents weren't home. Ty always did his worst to me when our parents were not around. But it wouldn't matter, I would call it off with him. He would scream in my face or he would beat me for the last time and then it would all be over. I could drive home and collapse in bed with a new sense of freedom.

 

True to my word, I drove over at six o'clock and sat in the driveway for a few minutes. My heart was beating quickly in my chest but I knew it wasn't because SVT decided it wanted me to die again. It was just my nerves being a bunch of dick faces.

 

I took a deep breath in attempt to maintain my composure and stepped out of the car. My legs were like jell-o as I made my way up to the façade of his house. I rung the doorbell once and stood there until Ty came to the door.

 

He opened the door, a smile spread widely across his freshly tanned face. "Why hello, Tonesy. Miss me?"

 

"Uh yeah." I lied, smiling meekly at him.

 

"Well, why don't I fix that and we make our way to the bedroom. Hmm?"

 

"I... alright." I complied and followed him up the stairs.

 

Once we reached his room, Tiberius wrapped his arms around me and started going for my pants, pulling them down in one swift motion. I could tell he was already aroused and my cheeks flushed a dark crimson.

 

"I missed you." He whispered, stripping his shirt off, pushing his lips against mine.

 

But no. I didn't want it. I didn't want sex. I didn't want kisses. I didn't want Tiberius Stone to be my boyfriend anymore so I did what I never thought I'd do.

 

I pushed him back and he stumbled backwards.

 

"What the fuck, Stark?"

 

"I-I want to talk to you." I said, standing there, vulnerable in my boxers.

 

"Well, can't it wait? I've been craving your tight ass all week."

 

"No, it can’t."

 

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck is it?" He huffed as he sat down on the bed, arms crossed.

 

"I-I'm sick of the way you treat me." I stuttered, looking out his window where the sun was starting to dip down the horizon. "I don't like how you talk to me or how you get... physical with me. It hurts a lot."

 

"You treat me like I'm nothing to you. I-I try my best to make this work and convince myself that this is okay. But I-I found out that this isn't a way for me to live."

 

"You mean Rogers told you."

 

I suppressed a shudder at his accurate statement but I tried my best to continue.

 

"I can't do this anymore, Tiberius. I-I'm breaking up with you."

 

The first punch to my jaw wasn't a surprise. Nor was the second to my stomach. The kick to my crotch was hardly a reason for me to gasp. The gripping of my hair almost made me want to yawn. Him screaming in my face was hardly a reason for me to freak out. It was all normalcy to me at that point.

 

"DO YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST LEAVE ME, YOU PIECE OF SHIT?! YOU ARE MINE."

 

"I can't d-do this anymore." I choked out along with a mouthful of blood that stained my teeth.

 

"YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME, YOU WORTHLESS SON OF A BITCH!" He shoved me against his bed, towering over me in a formidable way that succumbed me to quivering violently on his rumpled bed.

 

He grabbed my jaw with his right hand-- his stronger hand, and tightened it in his grip. I almost thought he was going to break it. But instead, he lowered his smirking face to mine.

 

"You're not going anywhere, Stark. You're all mine."

 

Then the worst happened. He pinned me against his bed, his nails digging into the scar on my chest. He forced my underwear off and my eyes widened at the action.

 

"You're mine, bitch. You got that?"

 

"T-Ty please stop!" I begged, but my cries were of no avail as he forced me onto my stomach, his erection pressed against my thigh.

 

He dug his nails into my ribs. "You deserve this." He hissed as he released his grip on my ribs and punched them instead. I thought I heard a faint crack and I shouted out in pain as he put his hand over my mouth. I bit his middle finger and he yelled out.

 

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU FUCKING BITCH!" He screeched as he started hitting me again.

 

I fell into a fit of snot filled sobs and futile attempts of trying to kick him away as he spread my thighs apart. I tried my best to thrash away from his larger body but his strong hands held my skinny body still. I kicked my legs out but he started beating me until I was too hurt to move.

 

Then he thrusted in. Completely dry with no lubricant to smoothen the painful friction. I screamed out in pain at the intrusion. He didn't even try to loosen me up with his fingers, he just went in and it was the most painful thing I've ever felt.

 

I cried out, trying to pull away from him. "STOP STOP STOP."

 

"You like it, you little bitch, don't you?" He husked out, chuckling at my pain.

 

"TY STO-"

 

But his warm hand was covering my face and nose, muffling my screams and making it harder for me to breathe.

 

Silence fell in the room with my shouts of pain being covered up. The only sound was of skin slapping against skin and Ty's pleasure-filled grunts as he intruded upon me against my own will-- as he raped me-- turning me into a statistic of the male individuals in this world that have been forced to do what I was forced to do.

 

It felt like it went on forever and I was too weak to escape. Then, I felt the wetness of cum dripping down my thighs, along with something much warmer-- blood. My blood. He pulled out, laughing in the midst of it all.

 

I couldn't move at all. My whole body felt heavy. A stabbing pain throbbed white hot in my lower back and spread across my stomach. I felt like I was going to vomit at any given second. Tears ran down my face and sobs began to take over my body as Ty stood over me.

 

He grabbed me by my arm and pulled me onto the floor.

 

"You see what fucking happens when you try to fuck with me, Stark?" He hissed at me, pulling my neck back so I was forced to meet his face. "You're just a pathetic little boy. Nobody could love anybody as stupid as you. You're nothing."

 

I just continued to cry and shake, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

 

"Get the fuck out of my house." He said as he shoved me against the wall.

 

I quickly crawled towards the door, grabbing my boxers and quickly pulling up them up my sore thighs along with my jeans. He didn't bother taking off my shirt to see my hideous scar-- which is a blessing, I suppose. Just a little less of my body had been violated.

 

I fiddled with the door knob and stumbled out the door, limping towards the stairs.

 

"GET OUT!" he screamed. "I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN." Then he shoved me down the stairs, sending me tumbling down the carpeted stairs all the way down to the hardwood.

 

I cried out as a white hot pain pulsed in my right ankle, but I didn't stay to inspect the possible damage. I wanted to leave as soon as I got the chance. I quickly darted out the door, my damaged body running on nothing but pure adrenaline. I stumbled into the car, not daring to look back, just in case Tiberius, my abuser, my rapist, had made a sudden return to give me more.

 

I stomped on the gas pedal with my left foot, my right one was still sending shocks of pain up my leg with the slightest movement.

 

As I began driving out of his neighborhood, I was overwhelmed with what had just happened to me. I began to sob hysterically, gripping the wheel tightly. Oh God, I thought. What had he just done to me? The guy who I had once loved actually... done that to me. Why? JUST WHY?

 

At first, I considered going home or calling the cops, but I realized along with my shock, I was absolutely humiliated. So, instead I pulled over once I was about fifteen miles away from Ty's house and I pulled out my phone and I texted the only person who could possibly help me at the time. Steve.

 

Me: Steve? Are you awake?

Steve: Yeah. I just finished my homework. Last minute. Woops. :))

Me: I need help.

Steve: What's wrong?

Me: Can I come over? Please.

Steve: Yeah... What happened?

Me: Can you make sure your dad doesn't see me?

Steve: Sure. But what's going on?

Me: I'll be there in a few.

Steve: Okay..

 

I made my way to his house, tears still streaming down my bruised and swollen mess of a face and I sat in the car trembling as I pulled out my phone again.

 

Me: Can I come in?

Steve: Yeah. My dad is taking a shower.

Me: I'm walking up now.

 

Walking up was kind of a lie. I was more so stumbling and limping as I gasped out in pain with each movement. I stumbled up the stairs to his front door and knocked once.  
Steve was immediately there and a gasp passed his lips.

 

"Holy shit, Tony. What hap--"

 

"Help me." I pleaded, tears streaming down my face, mixing with my blood.

 

Steve quickly slid an arm under my knees and one behind my back and picked me up. I let out a gasp on pain as flames licked my right ankle.

 

"W-wha--"

 

"Just.. your room. Please. It hurts."

 

"Okay..." he replied as he carried me to his well-organized bedroom. He laid me on his twin bed, and for the first time, I saw how I looked in his vanity mirror. My face was bruised and bloody, my lips were fat and swollen. My hair was tousled more than usual and there was bruises mapped across my arms and neck. I didn't even want to know what my legs and torso looked like, but, of course, I was going to have to with Dr. Steven helping me.

 

I could only hope he doesn't discover what Ty has done to me.

 

"What happ-"

 

"Please don't." I begged. "I-I can't."

 

"Okay... I'm... I'm going to get some ice and band aids okay?" He told me, "Will you get undressed so I can make sure nothing is broken and we don't have to go to the hos--"

 

"NO HOSPITAL!" I shouted against my own will. "Please... just us. I-I'm okay."

 

"What about your heart? Are you having any chest pain?"

 

"It feels fine..." Physically, it did Emotionally, I'm sure it was shattered beyond repair.

 

"Alright, I'll take your word for it, but if you collapse and die on my bed, my eulogy will be composed of me stating how big of an idiot you are."

 

I forced out a laugh and I nodded as he exited his bedroom to retrieve spare medical supplies that his late mother had brought home when she was living and worked at a nurse at Shield General Hospital.

 

While he was gone, I pulled my knees to my chest despite the protests of my aching back, stomach and foot. I buried my chest between my knees. Fresh, hot tears began cascading down my bruised cheeks. I took a long, deep breath and began to pull up my shirt.

 

 _Steve would never hurt me,_ I assured myself. _Steve isn't Tiberius. He wouldn’t even slap me if I'd done something to upset him, I told myself. He wouldn't go to the same lengths that Tiberius would have with me. Steven Rogers would never hurt me. Steven Rogers is a good person. I am safe with Steven Rogers._

 

I dropped my t-shirt on his pristine floor and I slipped my jeans off, being careful as to not aggravate my ankle injury. I curled myself up in a ball, feeling way too exposed for my own liking. I felt vulnerable.

 

"I have returned, Mr. Stark." Steve chirped, attempting to lighten my mood. Unfortunately, it failed to ease my distress. "Okay, I'm going to feel up your ribs okay? Tell me if it hurts."

 

"Okay." I obliged as his warm, strong hands touched my ribs. I gasped out in pain, biting my lip and clenching my eyes shut.

 

"One to ten?" He asked, referring to the classical pain scale that all doctors use.

 

"Five." I lied.

 

"So a seven or an eight, I presume."

 

I nodded, knowing that Steve had always seen past my masks.

 

"You may have broken some, Tones... I really think we need to go to the--"

 

"Don't say it."

 

"Hospital."

 

"No." I hissed through gritted teeth as he wrapped them tightly in an Ace bandage.

 

"Tony, you could have punctured a lung."

 

"Well, if I drop dead tonight, we'll know your diagnosis was indeed correct." I grunted, "I'm not going."

 

"Fine. But if you feel short of breath, you're going." He continued his examination of my body until he reached my right ankle-- which I arched my back in the moment his hand touched the swollen skin.

 

"That hurt?"

 

"No. It feels fucking awesome." I choked.

 

"Sorry, but I'm going to have to turn it to make sure it's not broken. Alright?"

 

"Okay."I spat through gritted teeth.

 

He did as he told me he would, turning my ankle left and right, up and down continuously asking if it hurt and how bad. Finally, after a painful game of twists and turns he came to a conclusion, "I don't think it's broken. I think you've just badly sprained it and I personally think you should get it checked out, but I already know what you'll say to that."

 

"No."

 

"I think I'm officially qualified to say I'm as genius as you."

 

"I disagree upon your statement." I managed to get out.

 

He simply laughed as he wrapped my ankle up.

 

"Do you want me to take you home?" He asked me, concern evident upon his face.

 

"Can I stay here?" I more so begged than asked.

 

"Yeah. I'll go tell my dad. You can change into something of mine if you'd like. Then, I want you to put some ice on those bruises, alright?"

 

"Okay," I replied, standing up as he walked out. I limped over to his dresser when I noticed there was blood stained on my thighs and on the back of my unfortunately white underwear.

 

"FUCK." I swore as I quickened my pace to find something suitable for me to wear for the night. I ended up choosing one of Steve's sport t-shirts and a pair of black sweats just in case I was to bleed more overnight.

 

As I pulled on the pants over my aching legs, Steve walked back in and I nearly wanted to scream with humiliation seeing as my blood-stained underwear and thighs were surely in his area of sight. _He's going to know,_ I thought. _Oh God he's going to know. He's going to see that I've been raped and then he's going to think I'm disgusting._

 

_But no. Steve wouldn't think such terrible things of me. Steve cared about me. He is not Tiberius Stone. Not all people around me are going to be like Tiberius. Tiberius is an asshat. Steve is a man of infallible kindness and benevolence towards all people. He is not going to hate me._

 

But if he saw the crimson that bled upon my thighs and underwear, he said nothing of it. Maybe he didn't notice, or if he did, he made no comment. To this day, I am uncertain whether Steve knows if I was raped or not.

 

"You can take my bed for the night." He announced as I finally get the too-big sweats tied tightly enough over my bony hips.

 

"I can sleep on the fl--"

 

"No. You're hurt."

 

"But--"

 

"Tony, no."

 

I dropped my eyes to the floor. "W-Will you lay with me until I fall asleep?"

 

"Yeah, Tones. Anything for you." He assured me as he led me to his bed in a gentle way, completely unlike the forcefulness that Ty would do when he wanted me laid out for him.  
He pulled me close to him in the bed that was clearly not built for two people. Especially a highly muscular male that probably shouldn't even have such a tiny bed and his average sized friend.

 

"Do you want to call the cops?" He asked me as he flicked off his lamp.

 

"No."

 

"Are you--"

 

"Positive."

 

"Okay, Tony." He sighed, rubbing my upper back-- which I was thankful for. Had he touched my lower back and I may have freaked out, even if I knew it was only Steve. I still felt terribly vulnerable at that moment-- like Tiberius was going to get me again. If not at that moment, I felt it might happen soon.

"Thank you." I whispered as sleep started to push heavily on my mind.

 

"Anything for you, Tony Stark." He reassured me as he continued the soothing massage he was performing on my back.

 

I knew at that moment that I would never forget what Ty had done to me and it will probably scar me eternally. I knew I should probably have turned to somebody for the mental help I was surely in need of, and I should have probably gone to the hospital that night. But at that moment, pressed against Steve Rogers with his musky scent and amazing hands easing the tenseness from my muscles, I knew only one thing. I knew that I, Tony Stark was in love with Steven Rogers.

 

xXx

 

I am suddenly dragged away from my less than pleasurable memories by the gruff sound of Howard's voice. I glance up to see him clad in a very expensive suit, complete with freshly polished dress shoes, a Rolex, gold cuff links and a satin tie. His face is freshly shaven and his hair is neatly combed on top of his head-- always ready to impress.

 

"I need you to carry my luggage out the door."

 

"I have a heart cond--"

 

"Now."

 

I shoot him a dirty glare as I lift up one of the smaller suitcases that proves to still be heavy as fuck and carry it out to his car. He follows behind me carrying a brief case and a duffel of his. Of course, give the diseased child the heavy shit.

 

"You know, this probably breaks some child labor law or something." I deadpan as I set his suitcase in the back-- wishing that Steve was done with his shower and could be doing this work for me. "Giving kids who could drop dead at any minute heavy luggage to lug around could possibly land you in jail, Howard."

 

"Shut up, Tony." He grunts out, his annoyance evident in his voice. Ah yes, the sweet sound of displeasure. God, being an asshole is so fun.

 

"Well, I'll tell your golden child that you said goodbye." I tell him, walking back to the house.

 

"No. You're staying right here." He orders, his arms crossed over his chest. Oh great, he's going to reprimand me once more of the brutal household laws that I have no intention whatsoever of obeying.

 

"Yes, sir Howard? What shall I do for you now, I, your slave, your cabin boy, who would give up all for his dear father."

 

"Cut the shit, Anthony Edward." He snaps at me, probably expecting for me to finally take him seriously (Which I do not).

 

"Wow, wow Daddy-o! Middle names! You must be serious!" I say with mock fear.

 

"I'm serious when I say no parties, no fucking up the house, no forgetting your medication and no calling me up over something stupid."

 

"Does calling you to bring home sushi fall under the category of stupid?"

 

"Tony, I swear to God I'm going to slap you so fucking hard one of these days."

 

"No, but seriously can you bring home authentic Japanese sushi?"

 

"I will in the hopes that you get bedridden with food poisoning."

 

"Really?!" I exclaim.

 

"No, I'm not bringing you fucking sushi." He snaps, rolling his eyes. "You better behave yourself."

 

"Okay, I'm not five."

 

"I'm not always sure about that." He sighs, rubbing at his temples.

 

"Stop worrying, you're going to give yourself more wrinkles."

 

"Shut up."

 

"Hey, you two!" greets the voice of one Steve Rogers who is now well groomed, wearing a flannel, dark wash jeans, and a pair of sneakers. "Didn't think you were gonna leave without telling my goodbye!"

 

"Of course I wouldn't, Steve." Howard laughs, as he pulls Steve into a hug in such a way that makes me almost feel nauseated.

 

"Good luck in Japan!"

 

"Thanks. I might need it."

 

"With your ideas, you certainly will." I mutter to myself.

 

"Okay," He starts, paying no mind to my remark, "I left a credit card on the kitchen counter which you two can use for emergencies only. There is a total of a thousand dollars in an envelope next to said card for you guys to use for meals and if by some chance you use all of that, you may use the card."

 

"Tony, I refilled your medication so be sure to take that. Steve, you make sure he takes it because he is fucking awful with that. I don't want anyone over at the house and if you two decide to leave, make sure the door is locked. Got it?"

 

"Got it." Steve says with a thumbs up.

 

"Eh, I'll think about it."

 

"Alright, I'll be back in a week if all goes as planned."

 

"We'll miss you."

 

"Speak for yourself." I scoff.

 

"Tony, we all know deep down you are a total daddy's boy."

 

"Actually, he was a mama's boy to be quite frank."

 

"I'm right here!"

 

"We know." The two of them say in unison.

 

"You two are the worst." I hiss, crossing my arms over my chest.

 

"Okay, Tony," my dad laughs.  
"He's just grouchy, has been since yesterday." Steve tells him, as he pulls me next to him.

 

"Shut up." I grunt.

 

"He's always grouchy." Howard says. Jesus, why are these two conspiring against me?

 

Howard then pulls the two of us in a group hug which I try to duck out of, using my shorter (BUT STILL AVERAGE) height to my advantage. But unfortunately, Steve refuses to let that happen.

 

"I'll miss you boys." Howard says as he begins to ruffle my hair with his fingers.

 

I start batting him away, arching my head away from him. "No! That's only okay when Steve does it!"

 

Finally, much to my relief, Howard releases me from the cursed group hug and I am free.

 

"Okay, you two behave yourselves." He says supposedly to both of us but he keeps his eyes on me the whole time.

 

"Maybe." I call out as he steps into his car.

 

"I'll check in with you guys when I get there."

 

"Bye, Mr. Stark!" Steve calls as he waves goodbye to my dad who has pulled out, his car shrinking from view until it disappears as it turns past the corner.

 

"Finally, freedom." I huff out. "Oh, and never ever conspire with him again!"

 

"Mmmm it's kind of fun to see you get all angry."

 

"Fuck off." I spit.

 

Steve simply laughs that adorable laugh of is that immediately excuses him from his actions.

 

"You ready to go?" I ask, as we head in.

 

"Yeah, but let me grab a granola bar for us."

 

"I don't want o--"

 

"I don't feel like listening to you gripe all day again."

 

"Ugh, fine, you butt." I acquiesce bitterly.

 

"I love you." He says with a laugh.

 

"I love you too." I reciprocate as he pulls me against him, which, to this day, still makes me feel as safe as it did that night in our sophomore year.

 

xXx

 

School goes by quickly on Fridays, which, I am thankful for. I try to remain as close to Steve as possible in fear of encountering Tiberius after what happened yesterday. Thankfully, I do not see him at all. Perhaps Tiberius has taken ill and will be bedridden until the end of senior year and I will never have to see his taunting face again for as long as I shall live. Unfortunately, I can only dream of such fantasies.

 

After school, Steve and I get ready for the party that Howard totally agreed for us to have. Steve nearly suggested we call it off but after I gave him a quick ass grab, which caused a blush to spread across his face, he said it should be okay as long as we don't get the cops called on us.

 

We get out snacks for people to inhale, order about sixty boxes of pizza (Which will definitely be finished off within the first two hours) got a bunch of red solo cups and, of course, I managed to get a hold of some alcohol-- a lot of alcohol. And for the sake of my paranoid father, (And so I don't get turned into a janitor at my dad's company) we lock up all the valuables in my lab (Which, I have on lockdown so no stupid drunks can get in)

 

Initially, the party was intended to be just for the seniors, but of course, once people started filing in-- it was evident that younger students had heard and decided to invite themselves or join their older friends (As I had expected the moment I first told Natasha Romanov to tell everybody that I was having a party)

 

Soon, the sun goes down, the stars come out and the party is in full swing. People are dancing throughout my mansion-- the girls dressed in skimpy outfits that would probably make their fathers cry. Some kids are outside chilling in the hot tubs in their swimwear, where three girls have just taken off their triangle bikini tops and started a make-out session with a lot of tongue in front of a group of very aroused and intoxicated males.

 

People are taking shots at my father's bar and I'm pretty sure I saw a guy doing a line of cocaine off some girl's exposed stomach. I'm also fairly certain I hear a couple making use of my father's bed (I'll have to wash his sheets, I note mentally). Half these people I don't even know-- but I do recognize a few individuals as I walk around my mansion. Natasha and Clint are sitting on the floor of my living room, observing the mess with blank expressions, clearly too cool to partake in the wild antics... or they're simply just waiting for somebody to something so stupid so that they can record it and post it online.

 

Bruce Banner is finally getting his feet wet as I had hoped he would and is getting absolutely wasted at the bar, his collar stained with assorted colors of lipstick. Wade Wilson is making drug deals outside by the hot tub, Sam Wilson, (A kid in Steve and I's gym) is making out with this blonde bitch that is in my AP Calculus class and then I spot Steve playing a game of beer pong with some of his football buddies.

 

I can't help but giggle as I see sweet innocent Steve thrusting his fist into his hair, shouting his personal victory as the white spherical ball lands in one of the cups.

 

I shake my head with laughter as I walk away, deciding I, too, would like a drink. I maneuver my way through the mass of people and make my way into the kitchen, where some people are taking shots since the bar is ridiculously packed and others are smoking cigarettes or passing around a bowl (I'll have to spray the entire house with air freshener). I grab a plastic cup and fill it to the brim with the amber colored liquid and take a sip, the liquid burning all the way down my esophagus, and leaving a warm feeling in my stomach.  
But then, I feel a hand on my shoulder, nearly causing me to jump out of my skin. I probably would have if my drink wasn't so full.

 

"Jesus Chri--" I snap as I turn around. My blood instantly freezes in my veins and my heart skips a beat as I stare up at Tiberius Stone.

 

"Having fun, Tony?"

 

"I-I told you not to come." I manage.

 

"I'm sure a third of these people were not invited, Tony. However, they still showed up and you do not seem to be distressed of their presence as you seem to be with mine? I'd say that is rather unfair."

 

"No, it's not." I huff out, setting my drink down in order to escape him without worrying about the drink sloshing away in my soon-to-be swift exit.

 

As I make my way towards the door, he pulls me back.

 

"Hey, I know I probably pissed you off yester--"

 

"You scared the shit out of me! Well, technically the vomit out of me, but still Tiberius," I snap in hope that somebody will notice something is up in the kitchen and get Ty to back off. But like the diner, nobody does anything. However, much unlike the diner, everybody isn't paying attention to me, they're all too drunk and absorbed in themselves to pay us any mind.

 

"You're a freaky piece of shit Stone and I want nothing to do with you. Not now. Not ever."

 

"I'm sorry, Tony."

 

"Sorry doesn't take back what you did to me."

 

"Still haven't let that go, I see." He observes.

 

"NO SHIT!" I shout.

 

"Hey, hey, no need to make a scene in your own home."

 

"You're right, this is my own home. Now get the fuck out."

 

"Are you really going to act so childish about this, Stark?"

 

"I am. Now get out."

 

"I wanted to apologize for scaring you yest--"

 

"APOLOGIZE? You have done so much fucking shit to me, Stone. You expect me to forgive yo--"

 

"I never said that I expected you to forgive me. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what I did yesterday. It was horribly inappropriate."

 

"A lot of stuff you do is inappropriate." I murmur, crossing my arms. I'm not certain as to why I haven't left yet. I most definitely do not want to express forgiveness towards the asshole-- but if it means getting him to leave me alone, it's totally worth it. The memories will never leave my mind but at least no more shall come my way.

 

"I know," He sighs. "I just want to make a truce of sorts. I'll leave you alone if it'll put you at ease."

 

"Seriously?" I ask in disbelief, turning to him.

 

"Yeah. It kind of ruins my image for getting other people to date me, to be honest."

 

"So this is for your own benefit." I snap.

 

"Would I honestly do it for the greater good of society, Stark?"

 

"Well no. That's far from your general nature."

 

"Exactly." He says, with a nod of his head. "Now shall we drink on this somewhat truce?"

 

"I suppose we shall." I agree, my voice wavering slightly as he hands my cup back to me.

 

"Bottoms up."

 

I nod as I down the drink in a few spaced apart gulps-- and after I chug the drink, I realize something terrible. The drink tasted off. Way off. It had a taste that was so sweet, it was bitter-- not the burn that usually accompanied natural beer.

 

Suddenly, my head feels fuzzy and my tongue feels fat in my mouth. I know I'm not drunk-- it takes at least three entire bottles to get me that far. No, this is way worse. I, a supposed genius, just committed the stupidest mistake in the book when it comes to drinking. I allowed my rapist, who happens to be my ex-boyfriend, manipulate me into holding a truce with me, while my drink was unattended, giving him the perfect chance to drug my ass. I am a fucking idiot, I decide. MIT should literally deny my ass right now, I think numbly as I stumble forward into the awaiting arms of Ty.

 

"You seem a little unsteady there, Stark." Ty says, a Cheshire grin cast upon his face.

 

"W-what did you put in my drink." I ask stupidly, my voice a complete slur as my head grows heavy. I can only wonder how a teenager managed to get a hold of date rape drugs.

 

"Oh just a little something to sweeten this night up." He answers, as he drags me out of the kitchen and into the living room.

 

"N-no T--" He covers my mouth.

 

"Oh, I think you're too tipsy to provide any say in this, Tonesy."

 

"S-stah..." I slur, my eyes growing heavy.

 

Instead he presses his lips against mine, and slides his hand up my shirt.

 

"God, I forgot how great of a kisser you were, Stark."

 

"Nnnngh..." I manage as he continues his rough kissing. My hands feel numb as the drug spreads throughout my body, numbing my senses. I try with my hands-- which suddenly feel huge and fat, to push his body away but he only pulls himself in closer to me.

 

"Oh God, Tony." Ty moans aloud, catching the attention of bystanders who laugh drunkenly in our direction. Oh God. No, no, no, I think to myself. This can't be happening. Not again. This time, I can't even scream. My tongue is too heavy to form a comprehensible sentence let alone shout my distress to my fellow classmates.

 

He allows himself to fall  back on to  the couch,  giving others  the illusion that I am on top of him. He continues to force my numb lips against his whilst pushing his fingers through my hair.  Why do I have to be awake for this. Don't most date rape drugs knock you out? I don't want to feel this. I don't want this again. I can't have this again.

 

Ty slowly drags his had down my stomach, inducing a bout of shivers to emancipate from my body. He slides his hand down the band of my jeans and into my boxers.  I manage a pathetic mewling sound as he continues the exploration of my body.

 

He laughs a cruel, daunting cackle as he feels the way my body trembles against his. He raises his hand to my face, clenching my jaw in his fist-- awfully similar to what he did to me on that scarring night.

 

"You're mine Ashton. You've always been mine." He whispers as he starts nipping at my numb lips, reaching to pull my jeans down so he can have his way with me. Again.

 

Oh God, when will this end, I think desperately. I can't let this happen to me again. I can't be forced to do this. I don't want this. Why me?

 

But then suddenly a voice tears through the blaring music and I feel as though I'm saved.

 

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" Shouts a red-faced Steve who is followed by Natasha and Clint. Oh God, yes, finally somebody took notice and got Steve to save me from Tiberius. A bunch of people scatter towards Steve's loud voice to see what all the commotion is-- and I hardly care right then as long as I am pulled as far away as humanly possible from Tiberius Stone.  
"S-Steeb," I slur, as I pull my face away from Ty's, my entire body shaking.

 

Steve storms over to us, and rips me from Ty and shoves me to the floor (Presumably on accident, I conclude).

 

"YOU GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, STONE!" He bellows loudly, reeling his fist back across Ty's face. I cheer mentally, trying to lift my numb lips into a grin as my savior gets rid of my arch nemesis.

 

Ty immediately falls back at the contact of Steve's strong fist. Hah. I wonder how he feels to get a taste of the same medicine he force fed me two years ago.

 

"GET OUT, YOU FUCKING SCUM BAG!" Steve threatens, taking a step towards Tiberius who scampers away immediately, holding a possibly fractured jaw.

 

I am about to lift myself to give Steve my greatest thanks when he turns to me, the formidable look still upon his features and suddenly my heart clenches again.

 

"AND YOU," he screams, tears shining in his eyes. His nostrils are flared, his eyes wide with agitation, and face flustered with anger. He grabs me roughly by my biceps, and I feel myself start to shake in away that isn't from the drunk feeling I'm experiencing from the drug Tiberius gave me. It's those years all over again when Ty would grab me tightly as he would, getting ready to beat me. Oh God, not again. Not from Steve. He won't hurt me. I know it.

 

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? MAKING OUT BEHIND HIM MY FUCKING BACK IN OUR OWN FUCKING HOUSE, YOU SNEAKY LITTLE SNAKE!"

 

"Dr-dru--" I attempt to explain that I was drugged but my heavy tongue does not allow such a necessary explanation to escape my lips.

 

"I DON'T GIVE TWO SHITS IF YOU'RE DRUNK, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! I TRUSTED YOU. I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?!" Steve screams. Oh God, he thinks I'm cheating on him with Tiberius-- with my rapist.

 

"N-No."

 

"THEN WHAT IS THIS?!" He screeches, his grip starting to bruise my biceps in the same way that Ty used to do to me. Oh no. 'Please don't' I want to beg. This isn't what he thinks. Why. Why can't he stop. I just want to make this right with him. Please understand.

 

"Not wha..." I slur off again, my neck seemingly made of rubber causes my head to loll forward.

 

"FOCUS, DAMN YOU!" he screams at me, as he shoves me back against the floor, against the wall which ignites a gasp from the crowd.

 

I fall back, banging my head against the wall, suddenly overwhelmed with fear. Memories mix in my mind and for a moment, I do not see Steve. I see Tiberius standing over me-- skinny and scared as he reaches for my pants...

 

"S-sto..." I manage to beg, tears welling up. But he does not. Instead, he yanks me up again, which causes me to yell out, terrified by my own boyfriend. Please... not again. I can't go through this again. No. Not with Steve. Steve would never hurt me. Steve loves me. This is just a sick nightmare. I'm going to wake up next to Steve and he's going to tell me how much he loves me and then we're going to argue over something silly.

 

"YOU ARE A FUCKING TRAITOR. HOW DARE YOU MAKE OFF WITH HIM AFTER ALL I'VE DONE FOR YOU, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Then suddenly I notice that his hand is raised, my cheek is on fire, the crowd is yelling out around us, I'm on the ground as a shaking mess with tears pouring down my face.

 

For a moment, I'm thrust back into my hellish past and for some reason I cry out, "Ty, stop!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect updates to be more frequent during the summer months!
> 
> Also, beta readers and reviews would be greatly appreciated. (:


	4. Author Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a note!

Hello, Sarah (writer of Tony) here with a message to the few individuals that read this piece of madness! No unfortunately this is not a chapter but a hiatus note. But do not fear young people who are most likely way older than my teenage self! This hiatus is going to be filled with intense writing from both Natasha and I! The next two chapters are going to clash a lot and hold similar events so in order not to confuse readers Natasha (writer of Steve) and I are going to edit our chapters together and make sure the events reflect each other appropriately! (Natasha is also very slow at writing. SHAME HER. I mean come on I got 15,000 words... although not very good words.. in 2 days man. 2 DAYS!) So by the time we're done editing and what not we can post two whole chapters at the same time! That should be rather awesome despite the wait that precede those chapters.

Thank you for those who read this story and who will understand the situation!

-Sarah

**Author's Note:**

> We hope you enjoyed! Please Review. :) 
> 
> Updates may be somewhat seldom due to upcoming finals and the fact that we live over 12 hours away from one another.... 
> 
> Thank you! 
> 
> We do not own the Avengers or the characters mentioned.


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